


Tynkerbell

by happycemetery



Series: Tynkerbell AU (Frank Iero/Synyster Gates) [1]
Category: Avenged Sevenfold, My Chemical Romance, frnkiero andthe cellabration
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Brankie, Drunken Shenanigans, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:33:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 58,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happycemetery/pseuds/happycemetery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The AU where Frank Iero is a roadie for Avenged Sevenfold and totally isn't gay for Brian Haner Jr.</p><p>Or more in depth: Frank Iero was barely out of high school and starting off 'adult life' in a very unconventional way to most: by flying across the country to become a goddamn roadie.  He was about to find out just how hard and amazing life was going to be by joining the family of a to a yet-to-be-famous band.  At best he was hoping for a couple months of feeling free and being utterly surrounded by music, but Frank got a whole lot more than he bargained for.  More than the vomit and the hangovers and escalating pranks and inevitable fights due to a lack of personal space.  No, his life got a whole lot more confusing and complicated in the form of a lead guitarist.  Frank's life was about to be flipped upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mr. Pantera and a Pixie

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my unconventional pairing of Frank Iero and Brian Haner Jr. A ship I like to call Brankie. One I will sail to my grave.  
> In this A7X is still working at becoming a successful band, but I'm not bothering to sync up their true timeline. This is taking place in the present (2016) so we all don't have to deal with characters using technology and pop culture references from over a decade ago. Thank you for indulging my "laziness" and enjoy this Frank-centric madness :)

* * *

The plane had landed and he made his way off with the other passengers moving like a heard of sheep. He adjusted the straps of the backpack he wore and ran a hand through his black-dyed hair. It was shaggy with the fringe grown out just a little bit longer and messily swept out of his eyes to the side of his face. Those locks were an unruly mess, but looking like he just rolled out of bed suited the kid well. He entered the hustle of the terminal and fell into a zombie-like pace as everyone else in the airport hurried around him. To be fair he did feel a bit like a corpse. A six hour flight was more than draining especially when you hated flying. And not only was there anxiety from the flight; the young man just traveled across the country from the only home he knew to start some kind of insane adventure. And Frank Iero didn't do adventures.

He was a cute kid and on the short side but at least had a strong jawline going for him in the appearing manly front. Frank was one who was usually anxiously reserved at first meeting and carried a lot of mental baggage, but the kid was passionate and quirky and animated when he let his real self shine. He kept the weird and expressive side bottled up most of the time, but wore it on the outside in the form of his few tattoos, hoop lip ring and nose ring, and small ear gauges.

He had been one of those poor saps that got bullied throughout his latter schooling. A kid too socially awkward to have made close friends during those years. But he was approachable, and did manage casual friends and even a long time girlfriend as long as it was the other people doing the friendship/relationship work at the start. For the most part he was a kid that went out of his way to keep to himself. He had immersed himself in music, and after finally having the balls to dump his toxic ex-girlfriend two weeks ago, Frank had decided at the ripe old age of eighteen that living his life like a hermit wouldn't be bad at all. Or more so, he hopefully wished that him and Lynn could get back together someday and be happy like they were in the beginning. Idiot boy.

So just two weeks ago life was over, but here he was now. Lynn was (sort of) out of his life, high school was over, and he was entering the real world with a bang. If planning to travel around with strangers in a van was even considered 'real world'. This was probably a huge mistake. Frank didn't know how he got coerced into doing this. He just traveled 2800 miles to become a technician for an aspiring band he met once a year ago. It did help that his stepsister had moved out here to California a few years ago and was dating one of the guitarist. And it did help that he knew his way around stage setup and various instruments. But Frank had only ever worked at his father's bar. The kid loved helping out on gig nights. He loved the atmosphere. He loved the music. He felt a part of the music scene in his own special way that happily didn't require any attention on him. His father's club was his comfort zone, but here Frank was miles and miles from it. This was not a 'Frank thing' to do at all.

But if there was anyone that could talk Frank into taking leaps of faith it was his older stepsister. Even his father gave him a big push to get out into the world, and a child leaving home to become a goddamn roadie wasn't usually something a parent supported. But Frank's dad was anything but a normal parent. Frank received the loving fatherly speech: "Stop trying to fight this, you little shit. You're nervous about meeting people or whatever? Suck it up. You're on a little ball with seven billion of 'em. You gotta get out and meet at least a couple of 'em sometime. You've got this opportunity thrown out at you to travel and experience crazy shit. You're young. Go have fun. Make mistakes. But for the love of god, if you get anyone fuckin' pregnant I will personally be the one to neuter your balls...if her father doesn't get to you first. Just go, BooBoo. You won't be alone; you'll have your sister there. And when you're done you can come on home; your job here will be waiting for you."

His dad was insane. And pretty fucking awesome. And also a douchebag for being that final drive to get Frank to take a chance. But the real blame for this whole nerve-wracking situation was definitely on his stepsister. Chelsea put this whole thing in motion. She made the offer. She asked for the help on behalf of the band. Frank always had trouble saying no to her anyway. Chelsea was the perfect big sister. Even when they first joined as a family at ages eight and twelve, they clicked, and she had become Frank's only go-to person that he could talk to about almost anything. She was looking out for her new 'band family', and yeah, it was cool that she wanted her little brother to share the experience. And sure, maybe in the pit of Frank's chest he was bursting with excitement over what the next few months (or however long he lasted away from home) had in store. Because he really did dig these guys' music, and it would be amazing to be a tiny bit a part of it. Frank just had to get over this initial meeting thing. Now technically he met the band before when they played at his dad's club, but the only real interaction included Frank just saying 'hey' and 'no problem', then pretty much wordlessly helping them set up and break down. Frank hoped to god everyone didn't think he was too awkward. He hated that he got so nervous. He wished he could just enjoy the excitement. Because he really was so goddamn excited to go through with this. But Frank also simultaneously wanted to hide under a rock.

Frank shuffled along and let out a determined sigh as he entered Terminal C where he was going to be picked up and brought to his new home. This wouldn't be such a big deal at the moment if his damn flight hadn't been delayed so now Chelsea wasn't able to pick him up. He picked a spot on the wall to lean against and took a moment to smooth out his rumpled faded black Banner shirt. An arm band tattoo peeked out from under the left short sleeve, and the Black Flag logo was also inked further down at the bottom of his bicep. Frank pulled his phone from his pocket and sent out a call to a new contact he added on Chelsea's instructions earlier this afternoon: one Brian Haner Jr., the lead guitarist of the band he'd be working for. Frank grimaced as he listened to it ring. Talking on the phone sucked, especially when you were calling someone you only ever said "hello" to about a year ago.

"Hello?" he heard a male voice answer.

"Um, hey. Is this Brian? I'm Frank, Chelsea's brother."

"Hey. Yeah, dude. I'm your chauffeur today. I assume you landed and are ready to roll?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. I got here early. I'm sitting right out side of baggage claim. In case you have no idea what I look like: I'm wearing a Pantera shirt and I'm easily the best looking person in the general vicinity."

Frank couldn't help a small chuckle. "Alright. I think I'm right by you. I'll see you in a second then, thanks." Phone away, and Frank ran a hand through his unkempt hair and made his way over, his hazel eyes scanning over the rows of seats.

And there he was, Mr. Pantera shirt. With a tight anxious chest, Frank walked closer, and the man stood as they made eye contact seemingly recognizing the boy. Brian looked familiar to Frank too. Not so much from recalling the year ago meeting, but from a few pictures he saw in the past from Chels. The twenty-year-old was taller and stronger built; his exposed arms covered in colorful tattoos. He was this laidback rugged kind of handsome with defined cheekbones and jaw, a white bandana atop long dark hair, confident brown eyes, and a bit of scruff on his chin.

"Frank," Brian said in greeting, sending him a smile and holding his hand out for Frank to shake.

Frank showed a friendly smile in return and let his hand clasp into Brian's firm grip. The man had to be a good guy if Frank's sister had sent him in her place.

"Nice to meet you, again I guess. I remembered you were short, but holy shit, I think you might actually be tinier than Johnny. Looks like our crew got bumped up to having two midgets."

Frank had felt pretty tense in those first few seconds, but with the teasing he actually relaxed into a real smile. It was an odd comfort, since friends always went for the short jokes, just not usually right away like this. And Frank wasn't really _that_ short. 5'6" wasn't that bad, was it? Okay, it was.

"Hey I finally got a half inch on my dad so I at least have someone to make fun of."

"Do worry little man, the lack of height suits you. You're like, a pixie," Brian grinned. "While Johnny, you'll find on the other hand, is a retarded little gnome."

"Um, thank you?" Frank laughed. 'Pixie' was definitely one he hadn't heard before.

"Anytime," Brian winked. "So Chels wasn't lying when she told me you should only have a backpack with you, did she? Otherwise you're just gonna have to take a cab anyway."

"Uh no, I just have this," Frank answered shifting the pack on his back. "My dad had my stuff shipped ahead of me last week so I couldn't puss out," Frank let out a little chuckle, then looked to Brian quizzically. "Why?"

"I just don't have much luggage space," Brian smirked reaching behind him and grabbing a black helmet off the seat.

A motorcycle helmet.

Frank immediately swelled with a mix of nervousness and excitement. Motorcycles were fucking bitchin', and Frank dreamed of having one before he was old enough to drive. But he never in his life had actually ridden on one. And now he was supposed to jump on one with a guy that was basically a stranger.

"Ready to roll, Tinkerbell?"

Frank couldn't help but smile again. "Yeah, let's go."

They fell into step next to each other as they made their way to the parking garage, and Brian gave Frank's arm a slight nudge with his elbow before speaking. "So Chels vouches up and down over your techie skills. You ready to take it on the road, wee one?"

"No?" Frank laughed at himself as he spoke honestly. "But I'm really excited anyway."

Brian chuckled. "You should be. I'm sure your sister probably sugarcoated it. But as rough as it can be, it's a fucking amazing time. You're Chelsea's brother so you're already in, kid. So as long as you can hold your own with the bunch of us assholes, you're golden."

"Well, if you're considering yourself an asshole. I think I'll be alright." This was nice. Being able to talk with someone new and not feel incredibly taxed. Brian was acting like they were good friends already with the playful teasing nicknames, and Frank felt comfortable. This change up in life hadn't started off too bad after all.

"Oh," Brian smiled his smoothest smile, "I just tend to be a little nicer to people I think have a nice ass."

A silly smile broke out on Frank's face as he held in a laugh at that ridiculous comment. The kid was just coming from a part-time job back in Jersey as a busboy where the majority of his coworker friends had that 'let's sexually harass each other' sort of sense of humor. Thanks to that crew, Frank could definitely handle that kind of personality and dish it back out when he was in comfortable company. And to be honest, inappropriate joking pervs were a fun lot to be around. He could definitely get along with Brian.

"Thanks. But maybe you should buy me dinner first before you go straight to complimenting my ass, as amazing as it may be. And it's pretty damn amazing." Frank swelled with that pathetic kind of pride that he was able to carry on the joking conversation like any normal fucking human. It was the little things in life.

"Well shit," Brian laughed, "you'll fit in just fine, kid."

They had crossed the parking garage and Brian stopped beside a chopper, moving to its side bag and pulling out a spare half helmet. Frank just stared at the bike in a kind of silly excitement awe. It was a simple sort of beautiful, chrome and a charcoal gray paint job. A gorgeous hunk of sleek metal. A big smile was plastered on Frank's face. The nervousness had vanished for the time being; the bike was too badass. "Effin' rad.."

"You ride?" Brian asked handing off the helmet.

"Never," Frank admitted with a shake of his head.

"So I get to be your first then, sweet," Brian stated rather suggestively with a wiggle of his eyebrows making Frank chuckle. The man pulled his helmet on and grabbed his set of keys from his pocket before taking a seat on the bike. "Climb on, pixie boy. And just hold on tight. It's not too far of a ride."

Brian pulled his visor down, and Frank smashed his own borrowed helmet on his head and fastened the chinstrap tight. Climbing onto the bike behind the man, Frank held on at either side of Brian's waist as his insides buzzed with excitement and just a dash of anxiousness. This was going to be awesome —as long as Brian didn't get them killed.

That engine had a beautiful roar that really came to life after they left the slow-moving confines surrounding the airport. Frank held on to Brian tightly as they raced down the highway. This was exhilarating, plain and simple. The speed, the warm wind in his face and whipping around him; it was freeing and a thrill. It was too loud for talking and that was more than fine. Frank was just happy to enjoy the ride. He kept his eyes closed most of the journey, just feeling the speed and the vibrations of the bike course through his body. He had to admit this was a pretty awesome start to this new phase of his life. Despite Frank's anxious reservations, he easily made friends with one of the band members already, was ecstatically riding on the dude's motorcycle, and Frank even held high hopes of getting enough into Brian's good graces for the man to teach him how to ride. It was a smooth start that made the kid believe the rest would be smooth sailing as well.

There were no worries in Frank's mind as they raced freely down a large pretty much traffic-less road, though he did tightened his grip on Brian as the man gained speed. And it was then in a split second that the man Frank had so stupidly put his life in the hands of suddenly took a sharp turn when the road was completely empty. With that harsh jerk he sent the bike swerving around into the opposite lane, like completing an insane 180° on the drop of a dime, and immediately the bike picked the speed back up, now racing back the way they came. That little stunt made Frank's heart stop. He had instinctively wrapped his arms fully around Brian's waist as the bike had sharply whipped and drifted into the opposite direction. He remained clung to the man, heart erratically racing as Brian drove on normally. Frank could feel Brian's body shaking, but Frank could tell it wasn't a shake out of fear; it was a body shake of laughter.

 _That fucking fuck_.

It only took a minute before Brian pulled into an apartment complex parking lot that he had zoomed by earlier to perform that insane stunt. He parked and shut down the engine before pulling off his helmet. He rubbed his hand over Frank's, which were still locked around his waist, to get the boy to loosen his grip.

"We're stopped now," Brian snickered, a cheesy grin on his face.

Frank's heart was still pounding furiously in his chest, and his breathing not at all calm. He unlocked his hold on Brian hastily as soon as it processed in his delayed brain that they were stopped and the bike was off. Frank clambered off and stood beside the bike with his arms splayed out in a disbelieving manner as he shot Brian a baffled angry glare.

"What the fuck was that, asshole?!" Frank yelled, a bit out of character. He was not one for confrontation or to slip into his 'I curse like a sailor' vernacular so soon, but that little move Brian pulled out there definitely warranted some colorful yelling. "Are you fucking crazy?!" Frank hurriedly unfastened his helmet and promptly threw it hard at Brian, the man managing to catch it before it collided too hard with his chest. "I thought I was gonna fucking fly off! Jesus fucking Christ!"

Brian appeared to be biting back a laugh as he got off the bike as well and tucked the extra helmet away. "Aw, you think I'd let that cute face get hurt?" He teased, lightly knocking his fist against Frank's jaw playfully, just brushing off his little stunt as nothing. "I could feel that you had a good grip, and I've been riding my whole life. I know what I'm doing." Brian showed a cool confident smile. "You're safe with me. Trust."

Frank didn't say anything for a moment. His expression remained in a scowl, but slowly Brian's words sunk in and made Frank relax a little over the situation. They definitely shouldn't have, but Frank wasn't about to argue with himself about it just to get himself worked up again.

"Fuck," Frank breathed and brought one hand up to clutch over his heart; its beat still fast yet it was slowly but surely calming. "You're still an asshole," Frank wasn't able to stop the soft chuckle that left his lips. "Shit."

"Hey, I told you I was one. But come on," Brian prodded, "try and tell me that wasn't the biggest fucking rush you've ever had."

Well of course it was a goddamn rush. A racing heart and adrenaline coursing through his body. It's funny how you feel most alive when you think you're about to die. Now, overlooking the fact that his body could have become one with the pavement...yeah, that stunt out on the street was beyond cool. The speed and level of control; it was definitely awesome. Just, a little warning would have been nice.

"I guess I can't." Frank relented. "And I suppose post trauma and everything, it was maybe, kinda sorta fun," Frank admitted with a hint of a smile curling at his lips. A smile that he knew shouldn't have been there, but Frank rolled with his now calm thinking.

"Kinda sorta fun, huh?" Brian mused. "Nice, 'cause I was thinking the two of us could have lots of fun together." Brian grinned what had to be his best smile, standing rather nonchalantly with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You think so?" Frank asked overtly innocent. If he was still cool with Brian after that bike ride, then he could play along with the fake flirting exchange no problem. Frank was grateful that he was already comfortable enough around this man to act as such. This had been the craziest and best start to a friendship ever.

"I do," Brian had responded, his eyes roaming over Frank's form up and down.

This 'checking out' was blatant but not comically so, and it made Frank wonder a split second if this man was joking or not now. Frank bit at his lip ring, mentally cursing at himself when he felt his face get hot.

"Something wrong?" Brian's expression didn't change, his eyes moving up to meet Frank's as he questioned the blush on the boy's cheeks.

"No," Frank responded quickly, giving a shake of his head and tangling his fingers at the back his hair in a 'feeling awkward' habit. Best to just ignore and forget the past thirty seconds and move along, because all it had been was joking around. Definitely. Yup. "Uh, so, you have the key for me right?"

"Yeah. Almost forgot." Brian pulled one of the keys from his carabiner keychain and handed it off to Frank. "104B. It's the door on the right over there," Brian pointed. "I actually live on the other end of the building, second floor. It's an alright place. Might be a little cramped for you with three people sharing one of the smaller units, but there's a pool and shit you can get to through the back."

"Cool. Thanks."

"Well, I'll let you get settled then. I gotta head out to my dad's to help him with some shit."

"Alright. Thanks for the ride."

"My pleasure," Brian smiled coolly. "The least I could do. You traveled a hell of a lot farther to help us all out."

"I guess so," Frank shrugged with a small smile. "Just keep making awesome music and don't make me regret it."

"I'll do my part. I'll catch you later then." Brian clasped his hand on Frank's shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. "Welcome to Avenged Sevenfold, Tinkerbell."


	2. Fireball Whiskey and a Beer or Two or Six

Frank was alone in the apartment he was going to be crashing in for a while. It was his sister's and her boyfriend Zack's, and they were kind enough to take him in —in a loving indentured servant sort if way. Frank was barely going to get paid (if at all) for his tech services, but he was being given a roof over his head and a promise of an amazing life experience, so the trade off seemed fair enough.

It was a one bedroom place, and that one bedroom was obviously occupied already, so Frank had to share the living room. His clothes and few possessions were waiting for him in two not-rather-large boxes in a corner of the room. Chelsea and Zack were both working late night shifts so that meant Frank was on his own until about one in the morning. He settled with raiding the fridge for some dinner and parked his tired ass on his new bed: the living room couch. He ate, sent out a couple texts to his dad and sister to let them know he made it okay, dozed off a little, and watched TV. It was an uneventful first evening on the west coast. Uneventful until after his ex-girlfriend called him.

It was 10:37pm, and the call with Lynn had ended long ago. Frank sat on the floor, his back leaning against the front of the sofa as he traced his finger around the rim of one of the empty beer bottles in front of him on the coffee table. A small drunken giggle passed his lips as he pictured his sister's face when she got home. And who the hell knew how this Zacky guy would react to find that his girlfriend's baby brother had polished off all the beer he had left in the fridge as well as what was left of a bottle of whiskey. Frank was feeling pretty happy now, but this was misery induced intoxication. The spiral into a depressed mood due to Lynn's phone call was completely and utterly his fault. If the idiot wasn't trying to remain friends with her that call would have been ignored and this situation could have been avoided.

The conversation had surprisingly went smoothly at the start, but then she had dropped the bomb on Frank. Just after two weeks she was back to dating Andrew fucking Tullis. That cuntfuck of an ex-boyfriend of hers that she had with before she and Frank starting dating. It didn't matter that Frank had did the breaking up, it didn't matter that he lived on the other side of the country now, it didn't matter that their relationship had turned into a steaming pile of misery in the last few months. It was still a big slap in the face, a huge punch in the gut. Lynn had stayed friends with Andrew during the entirety of their relationship. Frank never liked that fact, never liked the man who none too subtly let Frank know he was going to swoop in and get Lynn back the second Frank made one wrong move. Frank always acted civil though for Lynn's benefit. He may have never trusted that douche bag Andrew, but he had trusted Lynn so he never make a big deal over it. Frank had feigned a happiness to her over hearing the news. Gave her a "that's great, babe" followed by a prompt bullshit excuse of needing to go.

Lynn with Andrew. God it made Frank hate her. But he loved her. Frank had been thrown into a giant muddle of anger, hatred, regret, and self-pity. He felt so stupid for feeling so crushed over the news. But despite all her goddamn two-faced crazy during their relationship, he loved her. And it made him hate himself that he was still so attached. So he had wanted to forget her, and well, mission accomplished

Frank knew how fast and how little alcohol it took to affect him, but Frank just didn't care. DrunkFrank was usually a silly, giggly Frank. Nerves got kicked to the curb, and he was fun and idiotic and oblivious, as he tended to make poor life choices as with most people under the influence, but Frank didn't care about that. He had wanted to forget about that bitch and her bastard. Frank wanted to end the friendship, but just couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to be over her. But until that actually happened, the booze successfully knocked away thoughts of Lynn for now, leaving him in a sort of giddy state of boredom. He needed to get out and do something. And that's when the thought hit him. Brian said there was a pool. Drunk and going swimming, this was an awesome idea. What could possibly go wrong?

So it was out the back sliding door, and a grin splayed out on Frank's face when he spotted the large kidney bean shaped pool. It was surrounded by a sturdy white barred fence and tall full hedges. Barefoot, Frank headed straight for the gate —well, as straight as he could manage in his condition. After a short struggle to figure out the gate's closing latch, he let himself in and glanced around. It was pretty void of life at this time of night. The surrounding lounge chairs and tables were empty, except for a balled up towel resting on one. At first glance Frank thought he had the place all to himself, but he then spotted one person he'd be sharing the pool with currently swimming underwater. He giggled a bit to himself, hoping the swimmer was ready for some company. Frank looked down at his fully clothed self and back to the water again and grinned. This was a good idea. Totally. He took off into a run the best he could toward the deep end of the pool, jumping into the water with a yell.

The water was cool compared to the warm night air, and through his drunkenness Frank appreciated the refreshing feeling. Truly gone were any thoughts of his ex-girlfriend. His feet came into contact with the pool floor, and he immediately pushed off, shooting upward and then letting out another gleeful yell when his head popped up out of the surface of the water. His yell was met by another's soft chuckle.

"Well, hello there." Frank heard the greeting of the other swimmer, the masculine voice vaguely familiar.

"Hi!" Frank responded back enthusiastically.

The man was leaning against the wall in the mid point of the pool, about 5 feet deep. The area was decently lit, but Frank couldn't really make out the man's face from where he was. Frank swam toward his fellow night time swimmer, a bit slow what with being absolutely smashed and with the added weight of his wet clothes. He reached the wall near him and struggled a bit before successfully pulling himself out. Frank stood at the edge of the pool, his soaking wet shirt and jeans clinging to his body, and looked down at the man who was looking back at him with a grin. The man who Frank now recognized to be his motorcycle chauffeur.

"Hey, I know you!" Frank was grinning ear to ear, seemingly thrilled to have recognized a friend.

Brian chuckled, the look of utter amusement playing on his face. "I would hope so. I like to think I leave lasting impressions."

"Yeah, you were pretty cool. But hey, don't move, kay? Watch." Frank took a few steps backward and than ran forward, launching himself into a sloppy —albeit successful— little flip over Brian's head back into the water. Drunken attention whore, that was pretty typical too.

Brian laughed more. "Very impressive," he nodded when Frank came up, still grinning. "Though you know, all those wet clothes could weigh down and drown a tiny one like you."

Frank giggled. And his own normal sober laughter was enough of a giggle in itself, but with the addition of alcohol the sound was utterly adorable and ridiculous.

He again swam to the wall and climbed out, this time lying on his back along the edge staring up straight ahead at the night sky. Not that many stars could be seen because of the lights of city, but the sight was still captivating. That is until another sense overwhelmed Frank's attention more. "I'm _wet_ ," he kind of said it with distaste then burst into more giggles and let himself roll back into the pool with a little splash.

"And drunk, hmm?" Brian smirked to himself with a raised brow, pulling Frank from under the water and laughing more. "That tends to happen when you jump in a pool. Especially fully clothed."

"I guess you're right," Frank showed him a sheepish grin, splashing Brian a little. "Having your clothes on in here does feel kinda gross," he made a face that scrunched his nose up cutely.

Frank found a spot shallow enough where he could stand, the water reaching just below his shoulders and undid the button and zipper of his pants and unsuccessfully struggled at pushing them down his legs. Frank smiled with an idea. He raised his legs up toward Brian, keeping himself afloat by moving his arms through the water. He wiggled his feet in his new friend's face, "Pull 'em off," he giggled.

Brian smirked and reached down grabbing at Frank's jeans and pulled them off slowly. "My pleasure."

"Thank you," Frank grinned to him once they were off. Frank pealed his t-shirt off over his head and chucked it out of the pool as well, leaving himself in just his boxer briefs as he let himself relax floating on the water. "Ah, that's better," he sighed.

"Any time," Brian eyed Frank up and down slowly. Frank had the toned arms of someone who hauled around a lot of gear. And while the kid certainly didn't have six-pack abs, that bare chest and tummy weren't bad to look at. More tattoos were revealed in his state of undress: twin swallows low on his abdomen, and the word 'hope' accompanied with a black flame over his heart. And still hidden from Brian's view for now was a jack'o'lantern on the top of Frank's back.

"Dude, so you're Synyster Gates," Frank randomly expressed, speaking of Brian's stage name. DrunkFrank had no problem being chatty. DrunkFrank was actually pretty goddamn chatty.

"That's me. One in the same."

"It's kinda cool I guess. But like it's so random," Frank giggled a little. "Like do you have a thing for evil doorways? Oh! And why do you spell it with Ys? That's so fucking stupid." He giggled harder.

Brian let out a huff of a laugh. "Alright, because the noise you're making his incredibly cute, I'll let that slide."

"So what should I call you?"

"You can call me whatever you want, Tinkerbell."

"Is that my name now? Should I spell it with a Y?" Frank sent himself into another round of hysterics, his harder laughter this time around making himself sink down into the water to his shoulders.

Brian shook his head in amusement. "Now that would be really fucking stupid."

"I think I kinda like it a little. Tinkerbell," Frank mused with a calmer giggle, settling on swimming around backwards in little figure eight patterns. "It's a nice change from people automatically calling me midget, you know? Oh—" Frank's eyes went a bit wide in surprise when his back bumped into Brian's chest. "Oops," Frank giggled, turning his head to look up at him with a cheeky grin.

Brian's hands shot out to Frank's waist to steady him. And Frank let the man maneuver him so they were now face to face, Brian's hands coming to rest at Frank's hips. "No harm done," Brian grinned.

"Hey, you know what?" Frank tilted his head slightly to the side in thought. "You should take me riding again because it was fun when I almost died," he giggled.

"You can ride anytime you want, babe," Brian smirked.

" _Babe_ ," Frank echoed back with another giggle and a snort of amusement. "You could teach me too ride maybe?" Frank went on with that ever present drunken smile. "That would be so awesome. I would totally listen and not break your shit. It could be fun, yeah?"

"I would be more than happy to teach you anything that you want to know. We'll have lots of fun together, Frank. I promise." Brian smirked, giving Frank's hips a small squeeze and then letting his thumbs slowly brush over the Frank's bare skin.

Frank was a slight mess of giggles and squirms and shivers. "Cool," was his oblivious reply.

"I'll be more than cool, I can assure you."

Frank just giggled at Brian softly with the silly thought of how the man was a weirdo. Frank slowly moved away from him to climb out of the pool again. It took him twice as long this time to pull himself out, and he was a bit wobbly when he stood since his boozed up mind felt like he was standing on the side of a hill that wasn't there that was being slowly swiveled back and forth.

"I'm bored being wet," Frank proclaimed with a sigh. "I'm hungry. Are you hungry? All I want right now is a nasty 7Eleven hotdog, like you have no idea," Frank laughed.

"That I'll have to pass on," Brian remarked amused, still down in the water now holding on to the pool edge, body floating out with his legs lazily kicking under the water as he kept his eyes on the boy.

"Stick in the mud," Frank showed a silly scowl. "We should totally do something, though. I'm bored, and you were fun earlier today."

"I think I know a few things we could do," Brian smirked.

"Sweet," Frank obliviously grinned. He turned to walk away like he knew where the hell he was headed but was stopped in his tracks in the form of his wet clumped up shirt on the ground. He tripped with a lovely lack of grace, falling to the ground with a yelp and then bursting into laughter over himself.

Brian hopped out of the pool, exposing his toned body. He shook the water from his hair and swim trunks before leaning down to help Frank to his feet carefully. "I'd say you could use some coffee, slugger. A cold glass of water at the least. Can I trust you to walk without falling on that pretty face of yours again?" Brian teased, then went about gathering Frank's soaked clothes from the ground.

"I know how to walk," Frank defended with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, I could tell," the man teased again, nodding down to the wet body print Frank had left when he had fallen. Brian stepped over to a nearby table and grabbed his towel and keys from it. "Follow me." He gestured for Frank to come with him out the pool gate.

Frank just nodded to Brian a little and followed him, walking carefully and not at all bothering to question himself as to why he was listening to the man. Brian tossed Frank his towel, smirking as he very obviously glanced at Frank's only bit of clothing. Boxer briefs alone didn't really do too much to hide any 'penile definition' in the first place, but with the gray material completely soaked through with that added clingyness they didn't leave too much to the imagination. "My place okay?" Brian asked.

"Sure," Frank smiled, holding the towel around himself over his shoulders.

"Great," Brian swung his arm around Frank's shoulders and pulled him close as they walked towards his apartment. "Now, I'm not gonna have to carry you up the stairs, am I?" The teasing continued.

"Nooo," Frank stuck his tongue out at him and shrugged out of Brian's hold, walking ahead of him a few paces to the stairs. "I'm perfectly capable of stepping up fucking steps."

He held onto the railing with both hands, but somehow managed to stumble while only on the second step. If only it didn't feel like the ground was slightly slant-spinning on a two second loop. He heard Brian start to laugh, but at least the man was there again to help him to his feet. Brian passed Frank his clothes to hold instead, while Brian used his now free arms to lift Frank up.

"I think maybe you should let me take care of this," Brian grinned, holding Frank against his chest as he climbed the stairs.

"It's like we just got married," Frank giggled, thinking how he was being held like a bride about to be carried over the threshold. "And I'm the wife!" Frank barely was able to get out as his laughter grew.

Brian held back his own laughter as he struggled a bit unlocking his door with Frank still in his arms. "Does that mean this is our honeymoon?" He wiggled his eyebrows as they entered the apartment. He set Frank down in front of him, taking the wet clothes and towel and disappearing for just a second inside the bathroom to dump everything in the tub.

"It would be," Frank giggled more.

"Hmmm," Brian tapped his chin, thinking. "Well you know, that's kind of a special occasion. You can't ignore a honeymoon, it's bad luck," he nodded, matter-of-factly.

"Is it?" Frank giggled a little, he was happy to play along. "Bad luck's not good."

"It's not," Brian walked towards him slowly, with a mischievous look on his face.

Frank watched Brian get close, a soft giggle leaving the boy's throat when they were just inches apart.

Weird friend is weird.

Brian smirked, running his fingers down the side of Frank's face slowly as their eyes locked, Frank's unsure gaze meeting Brian's hungry one. The man showed Frank a reassuring smile before slowly leaning in, looking to close that small gap between their lips, but Frank took a small step backward.

"What are you doing?" Frank questioned with a slight giggle to his voice, this strange mix of confusion and amusement playing out of his face.

"Well, trying to kiss that pretty face of yours," Brian spoke honestly.

Frank blushed automatically. He chewed at his lip while his smile still remained there. So he was legitimately being hit on by a guy. This was new and weird and silly, but not unwelcome in Frank's state. Flattery was flattery. "Guys aren't pretty," he contended with a simper.

"You are," Brian stated with a cool smile. He looked over Frank thoughtfully, a touch of amusement and even hopefulness in the man's eyes. "I'm getting the feeling like you've never kissed a guy before."

"Well, that'd be right," Frank admitted, then proceeded to get into a bit of a debate with himself over the correctness of that answer. "Err Wait, I have. Wait, no? Yeah, no. I don't think that counts."

"Well," Brian chuckled softly, "how do you feel about trying new things then?"

"I dunno," Frank bit his lip in an unintentional coy manner. He side-stepped a little further from his friend but only so he could lean against the wall. Standing upright on his own was becoming increasingly hard. "Maybe. I like girls, but you're pretty good-looking I guess."

"You guess?" Brian's brows shot up in a sort of playful indignation.

"Yeah, well I mean you are. I have eyes, don't I? Hey, you know what guy I think is crazy hot and amazing? Tony Stark," Frank began to divulge with drunken abandon, hands gesturing greatly to get his point across. "You know, Iron Man Robert Downey Jr. Tony Stark. But like, not Robert Downey Jr., but Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark. Like it's kinda gross 'cause he's as old as my dad, but he's so bad-ass and in charge and a fucking genius and just this awesome bastard and so..." Frank ended that sentiment with a sexy purr noise, promptly followed by a giggle. "You know, you're pretty bad-ass. Fuckin' ride a motorcycle and in a band and shit."

"Well, I'm no Iron Man," Brian played off, entertained by Frank's man-crush confession, "but I try."

"Nah, you're cool." Frank looked Brian's face over intently. "Did you still want to kiss me? I think I wanna kiss you. Yeah. Maybe? That could be fun, yeah? I like kissing."

"I think it could be lots of fun," Brian took this opportunity to move close to Frank again. "Just trust me."

Before he could drunkenly mutter another word, Frank had his lips lightly covered by Brian's. There was that brief second where Frank couldn't help but release a little giggle over what was happening, but it truly was only a second of feeling silly. The touch of those lips did feel quite nice, and Frank let his eyes slip closed and found himself impulsively pressing his lips harder against the taller man's. Frank really did like kissing.

Brian's hands found their way to Frank's waist, holding him tightly. Frank felt his bottom lip being nipped at lightly, then Brian's tongue come into play. Frank's betraying mind was telling him this was a good thing. A. Very. Good. Thing. So Frank let the kiss deepen, even moved up on his toes to push himself closer to Brian's body so their bare chests touched. He may not have liked men, but Frank was liking this. And a DrunkFrank was a sucker for steamy makeout sessions.

In the heat of it all, Frank suddenly found himself being lifted up and carried a short distance into the dimly lit kitchen and set on the edge of a sturdy table. Brian immediately got back to the task at hand, kissing down Frank's jaw slowly and letting his nails ghost over the soft skin of his sides. Brian smiled at the goosebumps that were already forming under his touch.

"You're gonna be fun," he said breathily, smirking against Frank's neck.

A deep shaky breath passed through Frank's lips, and he tilted his head back slightly, exposing his neck more. The sensations he was feeling, the attention he was getting: it felt amazing. And in his current state Frank could care less who he was receiving it from. His body had thrummed to life in a way it hadn't since he was with Lynn (back in their better days, which was more far off than the break up). Finally getting that feeling back was very much welcomed. He was utterly lost in the moment, and wanted nothing more than to make that moment last. Frank's hands traveled to the front of Brian, his finger tips running over his chest and abdomen softly. Exploring. He felt Brian's hands start to travel as well, gliding along the tops of his thighs that caused a certain twitch between his legs. The real attention was being given to his neck though. Brian had bitten down on the skin causing a soft groan to drift from Frank's lips. Soft kisses over the pink teeth marks followed, and Frank couldn't believe it was possible to be this turned on. He needed contact. He ached for it, and so Frank wrapped his legs around Brian, making their hips crash together, that tiny bit of friction between them making both men moan.

Brian raised his head away, wetting his lips slowly as he gazed down at Frank with an almost predatory look in his eyes. Frank giggled softly, showing a look in return that definitely exuded the fact that he was having fun and wouldn't mind some more. The boy raked his nails along Brian's sides in a tentative innocent sort of way, and these actions made Brian take an unsure shaky breath. Their eyes stayed locked for a few drawn out seconds; Frank oblivious to the older man's change in demeanor. No confident look, no triumphant smirking; Brian was frowning now with a mix of anger and disbelief playing on his face. He let out a frustrated groan, running a hand over his face and pulling back from Frank slowly.

Frank quickly reacted with a frown of his own. He cocked his head to the side, looking at Brian curiously. "What are you doing?"

"This was a mistake. You're drunk," Brian stated with a disappointing sigh.

"Yeah, so what?" Frank shrugged, "I don't fucking care. Come back here and bite me again." Frank flashed a coy smile. "I really liked that."

"Jesus," Brian sighed, rubbing his hand down his face again, frustrated. "I'd really love to continue this, you have no idea, but..." Brian let the sentence hang. He stared at Frank for a few seconds, then just shook his head, muttering to himself first. "Dammit, shit. Just, when you're sober, 'kay? At least not this shitfaced."

Frank frowned again, narrowing his eyes this time, none too happy to hear that Brian was putting an end to the fun he was having. "You're just mean," Frank huffed accusingly. "I'm leaving, asshole." He scooted himself off the table to leave, but he was unable to balance right when he landed on his feet. Frank luckily found himself caught by the man before he could meet the floor.

"Stay here," Brian released another sigh, keeping his hands on Frank's arms to steady him. "You're wasted. I'll sleep on the couch."

Frank was going to argue, but somewhere in his muddled brain he was able to piece together a bit of rational thinking. He probably wouldn't get too far if he tried to leave. Not when standing upright took this much effort. "Fiiine," Frank groaned.

Brian smiled just a bit, ruffling Frank's damp hair before he carefully led him to the bedroom. He dug through a couple dresser drawers and pulled out some clothes. "Here," he handed a pair of shorts to Frank. "You can wear these. Your clothes are soaked."

"Thanks, I guess," Frank wore a tired frown. "G'night, then."

Brian gave a curt nod in response. He lingered for a few seconds, a somewhat unsure look on his face before he just sighed to himself yet again and turned to leave. "Dammit," Frank heard Brian mutter as the man walked from the room, "What the fuck, Haner."


	3. Making Room for Butterflies

His head was pounding, and he felt like he was going to be sick. Frank only once in his life had a hangover this bad. It had been the day after his seventeenth birthday, and it had been his own father feeding Frank drinks. Some insane Iero family manly right of passage. Frank curled more into a ball where he lay on his side in bed, calling himself a stupid fuck in a mumbled groan -among other obscenities. He wished he could slip back into unconsciousness until it was all over, but since that wasn't really feasible, he'd have to settle for dragging himself out of bed in search of Tylenol and water to combat his splitting headache and nausea. He opened his eyes, only to squeeze them back shut from the initial shock of the sunlight shining through the shear curtain covering the window. The second attempt turned out much better, but what Frank's eyes were met with sent a jolt of panic through his chest.

He had no idea where he was.

He slowly looked around the tidy gray-walled bedroom filled with matching dark furnishings and tried in vain to find anything even vaguely familiar about it. And now that Frank tried to think about it he couldn't remember much of last night at all. He ran what he knew through his aching mind

Lynn was a cunt.

He was pathetic.

Copious amounts of booze.

But wait, he had forgotten for a moment that he had just moved to California. The thought hit Frank like a brick to the face; he had gotten drunk like an idiot at his sister's place, so it only made sense that he still had to be there. This must be her and Zacky's bedroom. Frank instantly made a disgusted face as he pieced this theory together. He had to be in their bed, as in the bed where his sister gets fucked.

 _Ew_.

Well, that was enough motivation to get Frank to push away the black and white patterned duvet and hurry his ass out of the queen-sized bed. He immediately regretted the quick motion. Suddenly becoming vertical did not help with his nausea problem. Frank swallowed down roughly and remained still with his eyes closed until he gained his bearings. He took a breath, called himself a fucking idiot, and finally opened his eyes. That's when Frank couldn't help but notice he was only wearing a pair of very unfamiliar black lounge shorts. _Great_. Not only had he passed out or whatever in his sister's bed, but he had gotten naked at some point and was wearing someone else's clothes. What the fuck did he do last night? Chelsea was going to be so pissed. And then a bit of panic rose through his queasiness. It was obviously morning so she had to have gotten home quite some time ago. Fuck, did he already meet Zacky? All drunk and fucking retarded and possibly naked? _Awesome fucking first impression, Iero_. This was a fine fucking mess he'd gotten himself into.

Frank stared at the bedroom door and sighed. He couldn't stay in there forever. He had to face whatever the hell he did; even if he was half contemplating stealing more clothes out of the dresser, climbing out the window, and hitchhiking his ass back to Jersey. Frank took a deep breath and cautiously made his way out into a living room area, pulling up the drawstring missing shorts, which were most definitely a size too big, only to have them fall back to where they were hanging dangerously low on his hips. But that wasn't the big problem Frank was facing. The apartment he stepped out into was definitely not his sister's. Panic now definitely overruled the splitting headache and nausea.

Okay, so he got blackout fucking drunk, ended up in some unknown bed, in some unknown apartment, and was wearing some unknown person's clothes. _Fuck_. Frank covered his face with his hands and tried to breathe calmly. A faint familiar scent coming from his palms distracted his panicked thoughts. Chlorine? _Wait, did I jump into a pool?_

Frank slid his hands away and let out a long breath, reasoning that he couldn't just stand there. He needed to figure out what happened. Or at the very least find the door to escape the situation. He looked over the space more intently. It was actually pretty similar to Chelsea's place besides an extra placed doorway. The living room flowed openly into the kitchen and seemed to be the same size. The walls and cabinets were the same boring off-white color, but the counters were kind of darker here and the furniture was mismatched and more beat up but still kind of went together, everything being black or a dark shade of gray. It was pretty sparse of decoration, save for a couple crazy abstract paintings on one wall mostly done in blues, on another a framed black and white poster of a classic motorcycle, and an acoustic guitar was propped up in one corner. It was a clean place for the most part, but the bits of clutter on counters and table tops gave the place a nice lived-in feel.

The small television on the entertainment stand was on, a Netflix message on the screen seemingly asking an empty room if they were still watching 'Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.'. A very small part of Frank had an ill-placed sense of approval. At least the mystery apartment dweller had to be some kind of cool nerd, right? The living space had looked empty at first glance, but then Frank spotted someone lying on the large dark gray sofa; the person almost fully covered with a blue blanket. Frank couldn't tell who the person was or if they were sleeping or not from his vantage point, but Frank did figure it was a man just based on how tall they had to be. Frank bit at his lip as he quietly moved closer, psyching himself up to ask this person where the hell he was. His heart beat nervously. He _really_ didn't want to have to do this, but his pounding brain was rattled with questions. And as much as he wanted to just bounce, what else could he really do anyway? Sneaking out not knowing where the hell he was in nothing but a pair of shorts that barely stayed on wasn't really an option. Or was it?

_No! Suck it the fuck up, you idiot!_

Frank halted to a stop about two feet away when he recognized the sleeping man to be Brian from yesterday. Relief flooded through Frank's body. He ended up with someone he knew. Granted it was someone he spent a total of maybe an hour and fifteen minutes with and most of that time was spent on a motorcycle not interacting, but this was probably the best scenario that could have happened; and Frank was thankful. Though, there was that pesky fact that Frank still didn't know what drunken events happened that lead him to this spot he was in so he was still a little panicky and embarrassed. Plus his head was still pounding and the feel of needing to vomit was still strong; constant reminders of what an dolt he was. Frank held his breath when Brian suddenly sighed as he began to wake up. The man's eyes fluttered open and those drowsy eyes met Frank's nervous ones.

"Hey," Brian greeted him with a sleepy voice and a small smile. The man took a second to stretch his legs out before he pushed aside the blanket, revealing his attire of a white t-shirt and red plaid boxers before he pulled himself up to a sitting position. "How you feeling, champ?"

Frank crossed his arms over his chest uncomfortably. He didn't really have a problem with his body, but in this situation he felt oddly exposed. "Okay," Frank answered uneasily, but mustered up a smile in return. Brian was acting normal.. friendly. Frank hopefully thought this meant he didn't have anything to be horribly embarrassed about. "Um..." Frank tried to go on, not really sure how to go about getting the answers he desperately wanted without sounding like an idiot. But he damn well was an idiot, so he supposed he had no choice except to be blunt. "Uh," Frank looked down at the floor as he spoke, pulling up at his shorts again, and again they slid back down, "this is your place, right?" he asked slowly.

"Yeah. You were shitfaced last night at the pool, remember? So, I took you home for safe keeping."

Frank looked up to see Brian just shrug nonchalantly. Frank didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He was too embarrassed. There were definitely more questions spinning in his head, but Frank couldn't bring himself to voice them at the moment. He just watched as Brian got up and walked over to the kitchen, moving about the room to get some coffee started. Frank hesitantly followed the man, grateful for Brian's task taking the attention away from himself, but it wasn't long before Brian was leaning back against the counter and looking over at Frank.

"Hangover?" Brian asked with a raised bow.

"Yeah," Frank cringed a bit. He stood there awkwardly, fingers fidgeting and twirling at the back of his hair while his other hand pulled at his shorts in vain again. He bit at his lip ring not really sure what to do with himself. This was probably the most awkward and embarrassing situation he had ever gotten himself into in his life.

Brian pulled out a small bottle of medicine from a top cabinet and grabbed a bottle of yellow Gatorade from the refrigerator. "Tylenol and 'hangover juice'," Brian presented them to Frank with a smile. "That'll fix you up a little quicker. You're looking at a hangover pro."

"Thanks," Frank showed a small smile of gratitude taking the offered items. Brian was being nice, and it made the situation _slightly_ less horrible. Frank swallowed a couple of pills down with the sports drink and grimaced. That pukey feeling in his throat wanted nothing to do with drinking down anything, but Frank forced himself to take a few more sips before he looked back to Brian and chuckled nervously. "I hope I didn't do anything too stupid."

"You don't remember anything at all then?" Brian crossed his arms over his chest, gazing down at the floor, looking like he was contemplating what to say.

Frank lowered his head feeling another wave of embarrassment. Why the hell did he have to go and initiate more conversation? _Stop making this worse, Iero._ "No," Frank shook his head a little. "I think maybe I remember jumping into the pool, I guess."

"Well," Brian pulled at his chin as he chuckled to himself, "yeah, you jumped in the pool with your clothes on, fell over yourself, fell up the stairs, confessed to a love of Iron Man; but you weren't too bad. I'm sure I've done worse. Scratch that. I _know_ I've done worse."

"That's it?" Frank couldn't help but say back in return, finding he could smile a little at his own expense. Brian was being too relaxed and cool about all this, and Frank was grateful for it. Only sloppy drunk and a silly man-crush confession; things definitely could have been worse. "I guess that's not too bad."

"Yeah, well," Brian ran a hand through his hair, and for a second looked off contemplatively, "we kinda kissed.. but that was it." He shrugged. "No big deal."

"We, kissed?" Frank's mouth stayed hung open some in his shock of hearing that little detail.

"Mhmm," Brian hummed the lazy affirmative as he poured a cup of coffee. He grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry and offered some to Frank, "Hungry?"

"Uh, no thanks.." Frank answered absently. His mind was racing, and it seemed to make his feeling of nausea intensify. First off, was Brian gay or was this just a both drunk sort of oops? Either way, Frank couldn't believe it. They kissed? Him and Brian? Him and his future sorta boss friend? Him and this guy he just met yesterday? Him and a guy period? This was a fucking big deal, and Brian acting so nonchalant about it made Frank feel even worse. Frank knew 'DrunkFrank ChattyFace McAttentionWhore' didn't give two shits about being crazy in front of people. And he also knew there was an occasion or two where 'DrunkFrank SnogMouth McGrabAss' could sometimes be a makeout fiend, but never with a guy before. This just had to be something silly, right? Like all that faux flirting yesterday just going a little further kind of silly. It had been fake flirting, right?

"I should probably go," Frank rubbed at the back of his hair awkwardly.

Brian gave a small shrug as he fixed himself a bowl of cereal, "If you want to. I'm not holding you prisoner. But you're welcome to stay if you want."

"I think I'll-" Frank suddenly felt a lurch in his stomach, his face going a bit pale knowing what was soon to come. Here was the nausea at full tilt. He swallowed down hard, and took off toward what he hoped to god was the bathroom. If Frank had any luck at all in the past twelve hours, the room he dashed into did indeed have a toilet. He collapsed onto this knees in front of it, gripping tightly at the sides just in time to throw up. Frank groaned between each gut-wrenching heave, and at some point through it all felt a hand rubbing his back. He coughed a few times after he finished emptying the contents of his stomach. With one final spit into the toilet Frank wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and let himself sink down to the floor, leaning against the wall.

"Here," Brian flushed the toilet and handed Frank his drink. The man sat down near him on the side of the tub with a washcloth he'd gotten wet while Frank was being sick.

"Thanks," Frank said weakly, swallowing some down. He kept his head down and let out a curt laugh. "Fuck, I wish you hadn't followed me in here. I don't think I could get anymore embarrassed if I tried."

"What's there to be embarrassed about, little man?" Brian gave him a half smile, making Frank lean his head back to put the washcloth on his forehead.

"Everything," he answered, letting his eyes slip closed, vaguely appreciating the cool feel of the cloth. "From the second I jumped in the pool 'til now." He probably should have felt grateful that Brian was being Mr. Fucking White Knight Hangover Helper, but now the man's caring actions were only making Frank feel worse about the situation. "I swear me getting stupid like this isn't a frequent habit," he felt the need to explain. "Just dumb upsetting stuff happened last night, and I picked a really stupid way to deal with it."

"Don't think so much about it, Tinkerbell. We all have our not so shining moments. It's fine." Brian pulled the cloth away and ruffled Frank's messy hair playfully before standing up. "You're actually quite entertaining when you're stupid. Maybe next time just try to leave out the vomit." he kidded around with a smile.

Frank's eyes opened, and he couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Feeling any better?"

Frank nodded.

"Come on," Brian held a hand out and helped Frank get to his feet. "Should get dressed. Would be unfortunate if those shorts just fell right off."

Frank felt himself blush a bit as Brian smirked and eyed those damn shorts oh so low on his hips. Frank quickly pulled them up, and this time kept a hold of the cloth so they couldn't fall back down. Brian gestured for Frank to lead the way out the bathroom, and on his way through the doorway Frank's eyes went wide as he most definitely felt Brian give his ass a little swat. Frank paused mid-step, momentarily flabbergasted by the action. Brian walked past snickering, and Frank couldn't help the embarrassed grin that spread across his face. What the hell happened in the past thirty seconds that made Brian's personality change? Or rather, go back to normal? The man had been a walking embodiment of inappropriate flirtation when he gave Frank a ride yesterday.

"You're clothes are dry," Brian nodded to the folded clothes atop the kitchen table, and went back to his bowl of cereal.

"Thanks," Frank gathered them up. "Did I have my phone with me? Shit!" he suddenly exclaimed with the thought, "I didn't jump in the pool with it, did I? Shit! Chels has probably been trying to call. Fuck, she's gonna be so pissed."

"Calm down," Brian laughed. "No phone that I could see, and I shot her a text last night that you were hanging out with me and crashed here."

"Thank you," Frank let out a sigh of relief. "She's kind of insane when it comes to worrying about me. You just saved my ass."

"Any time I can be of service to your ass just let me know," Brian smirked.

Frank bit back a laugh, but his lips freely curved into a silly smile. It seemed with Frank feeling better the pervy Brian from yesterday thought it was a good time to make his comeback, and it was a mixture of comfort and embarrassment for Frank. This was the Brian he knew after all . "I should get dressed."

"There should be an extra toothbrush in the medicine cabinet," Brian remarked between spoonfuls. "I'm sure you'd like to get that taste out of your mouth."

"Thanks," Frank gave an appreciative nod.

"Anything to help that pretty face," Brian remarked with a wink, then smiled innocently.

Frank felt another embarrassed smile curl at his lips, and he quickly retreated back to the bathroom to dress. He took care of business at the toilet and changed quickly. At the sink he washed up his hands and absently thought of Brian and his teasing advances. Frank stared at his reflection in the mirror and had to roll his eyes at himself, that stupid smile was back.

He splashed some water on his face. This was not the time to feel like an innocent little school girl. And why the fuck was he feeling like that anyway? He should be used to the 'sexual harassment game'. Guys didn't make him blush. Frank needed to snap out of it; Brian was going to be his boss —in a relaxed sort of way. He was going to be crammed in a van with the guy. And whether Brian was a gay man legitimately interested in him or just a guy that liked to mess with everybody's head, it didn't matter. It shouldn't be a problem. Frank could handle stuff like this, so why was he getting flustered with this new guy all of a sudden?

The fact that they had shared a kiss last night suddenly returned front and center to Frank's mind now that the distraction of the vomit ordeal was truly over. Now that he was in a calmer state and could think about it a little clearer, Frank wasn't sure what to make of it. He really couldn't believe it to be anything more than something drunk and funny happening. But he kind of wished he knew the details. If he had been the idiot to initiate it or not. Just how hot and heavy it had gotten. Or maybe it was only just a peck. And if Brian had been a little drunk too like he suspected.

And then part of him wished that he could have remembered what it felt like. He may have only broken up with his girlfriend two weeks ago, but he hadn't shared a kiss in over a month (at least not that he remembered) and if this had been a really good one no matter who it was shared with, not being able to remember it was just cruel. Frank pushed the thoughts away. He may have really wanted to know more about it, but Frank sure as fuck wasn't going to ask Brian. No way he was bringing on anymore self-induced embarrassment. No matter how it went down; whether he had gotten too drunkenly forward with Brian or whatever, it didn't matter. Brian said it wasn't a big deal. So it wasn't a big deal.

Frank chugged down the Gatorade that had been left in the bathroom, and after he finished brushing his teeth and thoroughly scoured the taste buds off his tongue, Frank took one last glance in the mirror with a resolute look on his face. As soon as he walked out the door he was going to make it a fresh start and pretend none of this awkward embarrassing shit ever happened.

Frank walked back out to the kitchen with Brian's folded up shorts in hand, and he found Brian still standing at the counter now nursing a cup of coffee.

"All better?" Brian set the mug down and eyed him. "You look it anyway."

"I guess so," Frank shrugged. _Act cool._ He really did feel a little better though. His head still pounded in protest of being upright, but the nauseous feeling was pretty much gone. "I usually am better after I throw up," he let out a soft chuckle.

"So, no more blushing or nerves then?" Brian raised a brow, just leaning coolly against the counter.

_First of all, what does any of that have to do with a hangover? And second, fuck you._

Brian had just blurted it out there, and Frank wished he had the nerve to punch him. Instead, right on cue he felt a familiar heat rise to his cheeks. Now Frank wished he could punch himself. So much for that fresh start. "I have no idea where they're coming from," he let out a soft laugh, hoping it didn't sound nervous.

Brian laughed softly as well, and he stepped up close to Frank, brushing the hair from Frank's eyes. "Not a clue?"

"Uh, nope," Frank shook his head, shuffling back a step. "Not a one. I'll admit I can get this way in certain situations, but, I mean, only girls make me blush. So this here," he pointed to his reddened cheek, talking quickly and shaking his head more, "doesn't make sense at all." Frank wanted to kick is own ass for saying everything he did. Of course the nervousness that makes him ramble and speak without thinking decided to strike him now.

"Just girls, hmm?" Brian smirked.

"Yeah, just girls." _Stop talking Frank._

"Doesn't seem like that's the case for today." That smirk stayed on Brian face, and he moved toward Frank slowly.

"I- I'm sure it's nothing.." _I said stop talking._ He shuffled back a few more steps, stopping abruptly when his back bumped up against the wall. And there he was now, sandwiched between it and Brian. Dashing off to the side didn't even seem like an option. Frank felt tethered to the man.

"So, if I was to, you know, do this, you wouldn't blush?" Brian leaned in, rubbing his stubbly cheek over the side of Frank's throat slowly, his hands now pressed against the wall on either side of Frank's body.

These advances felt very, _very real_. This was way too over the top to be playing around. Frank swallowed down roughly. "You... You're not joking with me right now are you?" It was almost said in whisper.

"Take it however you want it, Frank," Brian spoke breathily against Frank's neck, making the boy shiver. "You can always tell me to stop." Brian began leaving a short trail of light kisses up Frank's neck.

Okay, so Brian really was gay then? That was fine. But this was weird. And confusion spun through Frank's mind as he couldn't quite discern whether it was a bad weird or a good weird. A man or not doing this, Frank was not the type to let a person so new get physical with him -at least not when he was sober anyway.

 _Tell him to stop._ A few more kisses over the heated skin of his cheek. _Tell him._ Brian pulled away just slightly, and Frank stared back, his nervousness clearly showing in his eyes. _Do something._ Frank couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He felt absolutely paralyzed. Brian slowly leaned down again after showing Frank a soft half-smirk. The man closed the gap between their faces, just barely brushing his lips over Frank's. And now Frank couldn't breathe. His eyes snapped shut and he remained frozen, though his mind and heart were racing. He wasn't supposed to be getting this way, but here Frank was feeling something flutter in the pit of his stomach. And here he was.. finding himself leaning into Brian's lips.

"I win," Brian mumbled into the kiss, his hands coming to rest at Frank's hips. He slowly ran his tongue over Frank's bottom lip, and Frank tentatively parted his mouth open. That access was granted, and Brian took it. He brought one of his hands to rest on the wall behind Frank, rubbing over the boy's hip slowly with the other. Their tongues moved slowly together, a clash of mint and coffee, and Frank felt a pleasant flip of his stomach and his knees go a little weak. His hands darted out to Brian's waist, and Frank gripped the man tightly as he let out a small moan into Brian's mouth. Frank was completely and utterly lost in the kiss for few minutes before he realized exactly what he was doing. He abruptly stopped and tried to push the taller man away.

Brian pulled back his head slightly, remaining close to Frank with his hand still on Frank's side. Brian raised a questioning brow, "What's wrong?"

Frank breathed heavily and bit at his lip, staring up at Brian with anxious eyes. "I- I um, I should go," he said softly.

Brian moved so he had both hands against the wall on either side of Frank, effectively trapping him there. He hovered over Frank, looking down incredulously into Frank's eyes. "Ashamed to admit you like it?" he accused.

"No," Frank shook his head a little, unable to bring himself to avert his gaze away from Brian's.

Frank meant that; he wasn't ashamed. This 'legit making out with a guy' thing was a first. It was a slight shock to the system. It was new. But Frank would be lying if he said it didn't feel nice. He felt split in half over the situation. To part of him, being there with Brian felt very okay. But then there was the other part that screamed this was wrong, that this wasn't him. If Brian had been a woman this would still be out of his normal comfort zone. "But- but I don't... I mean, we shouldn't be doing this."

"One reason," Brian tilted his head questioningly, though the man did lower one of his arms away as if letting Frank know he was free to go if he wanted.

"You're going to be my boss," Frank let out a nervous laugh, and moved from the wall quickly. "Uh, do I have my shoes here?" Frank asked quickly, making sure not to look at Brian but glancing around the floor of the apartment.

"No, I don't think you had any on. But you know, boss is a strong word. More like just working together. Us having a little fun right now doesn't change how we'd be working a tour later," Brian shrugged.

"It would," Frank chuckled humorlessly, fingers again twirling and scratching at the back of his hair. "It'd make it awkward. _I'd_ make it awkward. I'm awkward. I'd just rather forget it happened. Shit, not that you're a bad kisser. You're a really good kisser, like _really good_ , like wow, but I- fuck," Frank forced himself to a stop realizing nervous rambling had taken him over, his face beet red.

Brian's frame was shaking slightly in silent laughter. "Damn, you are awkward," he exclaimed with an amused smile.

"Shut up," Frank shot back with an embarrassed smile of his own. He wished he could just run out the front door, but Frank somehow had to make this right first so he'd be able to face Brian again without feeling like an awkward little shit. "Listen, we're gonna work together and we're supposed to be friends. And I think your cool and everything, but at the risk of sounding even more incredibly lame, I'm not the kinda guy that... Well I just, this just isn't really my thing, you know?" Frank gesture helplessly with his hands.

"Don't sweat it, Tink," Brian smiled and stepped forward to give Frank's shoulder a playful punch. "You want the past twelve hours forgotten? Done. But don't think for a second that I'm gonna stop giving you a hard time. I'm a menace to everyone."

"Thank you. You really are seriously fucking cool."

"You can thank your nice ass for my kindness, remember?"

Frank laughed, truly this time. It felt like yesterday. Physical advances, no. But just this pervy right off the bat stuff. That was fine. It was the very short normal Frank had come to know about the man, and he could handle it. Sticking around with Brian any longer would probably be a mistake, though. Frank did still have an aching head that begged to be horizontal and unconscious, and being able to forcibly repress that kiss madness wouldn't sink in if he couldn't be alone.

"Yeah, I should probably get back. The longer I wait to get my ass verbally kicked, the worse it's gonna be."

"I hear ya," Brian knowingly nodded. "Just so your story's straight: I did say you were drunk. But I invited you over here, we watched TV, let's say 'Spaceballs', and you passed out."

"Nice detail," Frank remarked. "Thanks. I guess I'll see you later sometime."

"That'd be tonight, munchkin," Brian teased. "It's 'rehearsal/meet you' night."

"Oh, right." But Frank didn't feel any nervousness at the mention of the impending meeting for the moment. He had become decidedly distracted as his eyes drifted to Brian's lips on their on accord. He had been doing so well ignoring the thought of their shared heated moment, but in these slow ticking seconds it leapt to the front of his mind.

Frank forced himself to break from his mini stupor, his eyes shooting back up to meet Brian's. He needed to bolt so he could properly shake this weirdness from his head. A hasty "see you later" and another "thanks," and Frank was out the door.

Okay that kiss had been nice, but it was weird and didn't make sense and was definitely not Frank at all. The last thing Frank needed was anymore confusion spinning around in his head while dealing with a hangover, and especially when he was on his way to get yelled at by his sister. He just needed to be away from Brian for a while, away from the reminder, and then Frank could just forget it. His life out here was gonna work, goddammit. Frank was resolute. He was going to get along with all these Avenged guys, and he wasn't going to let some crazy hangover bad judgment fuck up how he acted around Brian.

Everything was going to be fine.

 


	4. The One Where Frank Gets Laid

Frank smiled genuinely as his eyes stared into the chaos of orange dancing flames. The fire pit was surrounded by friends. _His_ friends. The young men of Avenged Sevenfold were a bunch of unapologetic assholes but with _the biggest_ fucking hearts. The kind of people that would give the shirt off their back for you, but also the kind that would bust your balls given the opportunity. Frank hadn't even been in California a full two weeks yet, but he had inherited a family. It had been so simple: he was Chelsea's little brother, so he was their little brother too by default. It was so quick, but thanks to these guys Huntington Beach felt more like a home than some temporary place he was living.

The group hung out almost everyday, and they really were an awesome bunch of guys. Matt, Zacky, Jimmy, Johnny, and his fellow roadie minion, Dan. They did dish out the teasing, but Frank was okay with it. It was a good-natured cruelty. They were making this easing into a fresh start at life easier, and Frank was insanely grateful. He was on his way to being able to truly be himself without carrying a heavy pensive dread in his chest.

And by some miracle Frank was still getting along with Brian. There would be that split second of where the memory of their kiss streaked across his mind whenever he first laid eyes on Brian for the day, but that was all it ever amounted to. Just some flash of a memory. Just a 'yeah that happened, no big deal'.

Brian still flirted. Like, holy shit did he flirt. But Frank quickly and thankfully came to know that the pervy zingers weren't just reserved for him. Brian was a flirt, whether in jest or genuine, with any girl or guy he considered pretty. Frank wasn't special and that fact made playing along or laughing off Brian's comments easy. Not to say that Brian still didn't manage to rise a blush out of Frank every now and then. Frank kind of relented to that being a lost cause. It was already a joke of the group, there being that one night where the drinking game was to do a shot every time Brian managed to make Frank blush. It was embarrassing, but a funny embarrassing. An embarrassing you could enjoy with your friends.

A round of laughter broke out around the fire, its flames bright against the night sky, as Jimmy finished telling a story about the time he stole the famous ram sculpture from from the Ram's Head bar that involved some serious 'hanging from rafters ninja stealth'. Frank laughed along with everyone. It was a good night, just hanging out in a circle of lawn chairs around a fire with the guys and a few girlfriends. Frank wasn't drunk, but he had that wonderful kind of buzz that just made a person feel happy. That pleasant slight touch of lightheadedness to the brain. He was content with just sitting back and being quiet while everyone else supplied the entertainment. But nature did call so a quick trip to the bathroom was in order.

It was out of the backyard and into Johnny's parents' house. (The couple was conveniently out of town.) He took care of business, but then lingered in the kitchen after he was done, leaning against the counter and just mindlessly scrolling through Twitter on his phone. His new friends outside were awesome, but it was still nice to have a short break from human interaction. And it was short lived in the form of Brian walking in.

"There he is," Brian greeted as he made a beeline for the fridge and pulled out a case of beer. "Hey, haven't asked you, Mr. Goddamn Nerves, you feeling ready for tomorrow?"

Frank instantly smiled. Tomorrow Avenged Sevenfold hit the road to join up with Warped Tour. Since he made his big arrival, Frank only worked three shows in the area. No real traveling. But tomorrow was it. Tomorrow it really started. Maybe it just hadn't sunk in enough, but nerves weren't a problem at the moment. Frank was just beyond excited. "I'm fucking ready."

"Nice. It'll be awesome, short shit, just you wait. But for now, party's outside you know. What you doing in here?"

"Hiding, I guess," Frank shrugged, showing a silly smile, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

"Right, antisocial. You know..." Brian placed the case down on the counter, the start of a smirk curling at his lips, letting Frank know some playful sexual harassment was about to spill out of the man's mouth. "If you need a break from the crowd outside, me and you could have our own little party in here." That joking come-on was made even more over the top as Brian accompanied it with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

Frank chuckled, and heat rose to his cheeks as well. Frank mentally cursed. He actually had a good streak of not turning into a blushing bride going, but here it came to a crashing end. He wasn't going to let the man win though. "I'm sure you could show me a _real good time_ , but I think I'll be just fine back outside."

"Your loss, Tink. And oh hey, remember don't get too smashed tonight. It'd be a shame to have to drive with a hangover."

At the mention of the word 'hangover' Frank couldn't help but flash back to that first and only time he was in Brian's apartment, and well, what had happened at Brian's apartment. That kiss. That memory of that goddamn kiss, which except for those millisecond blips, Frank had been pretty damn good at keeping repressed.

"Yo, Frank you alright?" Brian questioned, waving his arm gingerly to get Frank's attention.

"Yeah, sorry. Zoned out. Um, what'd you say?"

"I was just saying how it's really frustrating how no one ever really listens to me because my hotness is so fucking distracting," Brian joked with a straight face. "It's a curse really."

"Fuck off," Frank said through a laugh.

Brian was a pro at making him feel an odd 'merrily embarrassed'. Frank didn't get it. Pretty girls made him blush. Pretty girls made him an idiot. And then there was Brian. What the fuck was it about him? That cool combination of awesomeness and a bully? Of being full of himself and having a heart? And sure, distracting-worthy hotness? Being an excellent kisser?

_That kiss..._

Frank looked to Brian's lips. This didn't make any sense. Why was he thinking about it? It had almost been two weeks, and before now the thought was just about never in his head. It had been just some weird one time thing. That kiss may have been off the chain gang, but that didn't mean it meant anything. Frank could admit to himself that it had felt nice, that it had been a strange and fun little go; but Brian and guys in general, not his thing. Maybe there had been some weak knees and stomach flips, but that could surely be chalked up to the after effects of throwing up. That kiss was nothing. Probably. Sure.

Brian's lips starting moving, and though Frank was too far in his own thoughts to hear what the man was saying, it was enough to make him quickly snap his gaze back to Brian's eyes. Frank desperately hoped somehow Brian didn't realize he had been staring. _Forget about it. Just be cool._

"What? Sorry dude, it's been a long day," Frank tried to play it off, but Brian definitely had a knowing smarmy smile on his face.

"Not important," Brian dismissed. "Sure you're okay?" It was definitely a smooth fake concern, but Frank suddenly didn't have a voice to call Brian out on it as the man stepped up close and brushed the hair away from Frank's forehead and lightly pressed his palm against it like he was checking if Frank had a sign of a fever.

And in that second Frank very well thought he might have. Brian touched him and it felt like the room had gotten hotter all of a sudden. This son of a bitch was throwing Frank's mind and body out of whack. The man only touched his forehead, for Christ's sake; it was absolutely insane that Frank was getting worked up. Brian was a guy that was merely his friend —that Frank just happened to makeout with once (technically twice). Brian was just a flirt. Brian was just a tease. Brian was just an asshole. Brian... was a good kisser.

Why wouldn't the thought of it fucking leave Frank's head? This was not a problem the dozen other times Frank interacted with the man. He could be alone with Brian and- Wait no, Frank actually hadn't been alone with Brian since the kiss incident. There were always other people around. And perhaps that had been enough of a distraction, because here Brian was now just him in all his 'overtly sexual chiseled from a hunk of marble glory', and all Frank could do was stare hopelessly. Sure, Brian was good-looking; Frank never had a problem acknowledging an attractive guy before. But the line between acknowledging and being attracted was becoming very blurry.

"You're staring," Brian remarked, biting back a smirk.

"I know," Frank said back quietly.

Okay yes, this was definitely attraction. _But you don't like men, Frank._ He was never the kind to really make the first move, but something snapped or broke or hell, maybe even got fixed inside Frank. There was a buzz running through his body drowning out any sense or reserve his brain may or may not have been screaming at him. He swallowed down the nervous lump in his throat and tentatively brought one of his hands up, resting it on Brian's chest. He looked up at the taller man and wet his lips. Frank had no idea what the fuck he was doing, but wasn't about to stop it. There was no more denying or shutting away what he was feeling. _I sure as fuck seem to be liking this one._

Brian looked down at him, but didn't say a word, didn't make a move. Frank couldn't believe this very forward man was suddenly acting with restraint, but that asshole was probably holding back just so he could rub it in Frank's face later that Frank had been the one to start the funny business. And Frank found himself not really caring, not with how the fucking firestorm in his stomach was making him feel. He felt absolutely overwhelmed in both the best and worst possible ways. He needed this. Letting out a short uneasy breath, Frank moved up on his toes, bringing his lips up to connect with Brian's.

And with Frank's bold move finally received, both of Brian's hands moved to hold the boy tight against his body, and in the form of a nip at Frank's bottom lip he asked to deepen that kiss. Frank was all too on board with that. He snaked his own arms around Brian's shoulders as their mouths moved together. Brian back peddled them slightly to lean back against the counter as they kissed. His fingers moved just under the hem of Frank's shirt, just enough to barely trace over the bare skin. Goosebumps rose where those fingers trailed, and Frank practically whimpered into Brian's mouth from the light touch. Yeah, something definitely fucking switched on inside of Frank. And there they went at it all lips and tongues and roaming hands until a sudden clattering noise of something falling on the counter made them both stop.

Brian grinned sheepishly at Frank and shrugged slightly. "Guess in here isn't the best place for this, hmm?"

Right, they were in the kitchen. Like the 'room that led out to the backyard where everybody fucking was' kitchen. As in the 'anyone could walk in at any moment' kitchen. Frank felt a blush creep across his cheeks, and he smiled weakly at Brian, "I guess not." He had been so wrapped up in the man, Frank had completely forgotten where he was.

Laughing a bit, Brian grabbed around Frank's wrist and led him up the nearby staircase. Frank's feet hurried along on their own accord. And after Brian let them inside a sparse small tidy bedroom, the light flipped on and door locked shut; Frank didn't give himself anytime to think about his actions. He was too entranced by the man in front of him. Brian was probably a witch. Frank wrapped his arms up around Brian's neck and pulled himself up to kiss the man again. The kiss was deep and fervent, and only broke for a few seconds as Brian urged them to move their activities to the twin-sized bed. Brian sat up against the headboard and pulled Frank to straddle over his lap.  And it was back to business in this lovelier position. Frank's hands found themselves at Brian's hair, tangling his fingers in the dark locks; while Brian's hands moved down to Frank's ass, squeezing it gently.

Frank pulled back slightly to catch his breath, ducking his head down so his forehead rested against Brian's shoulder as a bit of rationale trickled into his brain. "Shit," he murmured breathily, almost wanting to laugh, "I have no idea what I'm doing."

Brian did chuckle. "Well, for 'no idea', not too bad." He brought a hand up to push Frank back slightly, and hooked a finger under Frank's chin to make the boy look at him.

"No, err, I- I didn't..." Frank pulled away a little more, sitting back straighter and running a hand through his hair anxiously. "I don't do this sorta stuff."

"With men?" Brian quirked a brow, smirking.

"Well, yeah, but.." Frank brought his hands up to cover his face, wanting desperately to cover his embarrassed grin. He let his hands slide down, though, before he continued. "I mean, I don't just jump on to people I'm not in a fucking relationship with and start sucking face." Frank couldn't help but blurt out a bit of laughter at himself. _Why the hell did I start talking?_

Brian was laughing too, a look of pure amusement showing in his eyes. "Well, if that's the case, should I feel honored? Or if you're having second thoughts and would rather we stop with the 'face sucking'," Brian chuckled, "of course, you're free to go."

"I don't wanna go." Frank shook his head with a small laugh, "I feel like a fucking idiot, but I don't wanna go." His self-conscious smile faded, and in its place a look of nervous longing.

"I'd certainly prefer that we stay in here a little longer." That signature smirk was on Brian's face, and he brought his hands up to hold at Frank's hips. "We can do whatever you'd like, Tink." Brian gave the boy's ass a playful slap.

Another embarrassed smile, but Frank worked up the nerve to bring his hands back to Brian's chest and to speak again. "I think, I think I'd like it if your shirt was off." He couldn't believe he actually just voiced that, but it was the honest to god truth.

"Then take it off." Brian was clearly loving Frank's new moments of boldness.

Frank worked the shirt up Brian's torso, up and over the man's head, and then tossed it to the floor. He pulled his own shirt off next in a crazed sort of hurry. Frank really didn't know what was coming over him, but he couldn't be bothered to care. Brian really was hot, and Frank was an eighteen-year-old male; being a horn dog was normal, right? Moving his hands back to rest on Brian's bare chest, he brought his lips down to the man's neck, because Frank _really_ had this driving need to have his mouth on him.  He made a trail of suckling kisses down to the crook of Brian's shoulder, along with some light nipping at the skin.  Since when did the taste of a person's skin turn him on? Frank breathed in deeply; even the scent of the man was entirely enticing.

Frank felt a tingle through his body as Brian's hand rubbed along his side, and the other combed slowly through his hair then grasped it firmly at the back.  Settling on a spot, Frank started sucking a little harder on the skin and earned a small groan from Brian. And then Frank was spanked, causing him to gasp in surprise. It was a lot harder than Brian's previous playful slap. He felt the sting, but smiled much to his surprise.

_Shit, I liked that._

Frank bought his lips back to Brian's, and they kissed with a primal need, moans leaving their throats and coming out muffled as they were caught in each others' mouths. Brian slowly rolled his hips up once, the action causing Frank's breath to hitch. Frank quickly pushed his hips forward desperately wanting to feel the contact and friction again. Brian's hand tightened in Frank's hair as Brian rolled his hips up again, using his other hand to push Frank down harder onto him as he rubbed against the boy. Frank breathed hard and felt like he was on fire. This felt very nice, but Frank's body was aching for more. This makeout session and freshmen year dry humping wasn't going to cut it for much longer. Frank held his hands at Brian's shoulders and broke away from the kiss as he finally mustered up the courage to speak to Brian again. His voice came out breathy and rushed.

"I am really out of my comfort zone here, but fuck, I need you to touch me."

Without a word Brian guided Frank into another position, so the boy was sitting between his legs with his back pressed tightly against Brian's chest. Still rolling his hips against him slowly, Brian moved a hand over the front of Frank shorts. He rubbed Frank through the rough material, leaning his head down to lick over Frank's neck, slow and teasing. A long groan left Frank lips as he let his head lull back. He brought a hand up to cup the side of Brian's face and groaned again. The teasing, the feel of that bulge rubbing against his backside. This was torture. Sweet motherfucking torture.

The top button of the shorts was popped open, and Brian bit down on Frank's neck, dragging his teeth over the skin as he slowly pulled down the zipper. Growling lowly against Frank's skin, Brian slipped his fingers just under the band of Frank's boxers, rubbing at the skin there teasingly light.

"Fuck." A shiver ran through Frank, and he whimpered.  Part of Frank knew he sounded very pathetic and was utterly embarrassed over the fact that he couldn't keep all the noises he was making at bay, but the current hot and heavy dominate part of him didn't give two shits. "Please..."

Brian's lips curled into a small smirk. He turned Frank's face enough to kiss him as he wrapped his hand around Frank's arousal, making the boy gasp against his lips. Brian squeezed lightly but didn't move, only rubbed his thumb over the tip slowly. Frank was unable to control himself from bucking his hips forward when he felt Brian's touch. Brian was tormenting Frank with his deliberate teasing movements. And god it was agonizingly wonderful. Brian glided his hand up and down Frank's length slowly, and held his body tightly against his own with his other arm. Frank moaned freely and somewhere in the back on his mind couldn't believe he was doing this, but fuck, was it exhilarating.

Brian went back to work at Frank's neck; lips and tongue and teeth making their way up to just behind Frank's ear. And right behind the ear.. that was Frank's _spot_ , and he pretty much let Brian know it with a sharp shaky intake of breath and a shudder shooting through his body. Frank let out a louder moan; all that attention near his ear and from Brian finally moving his hand along him faster was enough to make him keep trembling. Frank let his head fall back to Brian's shoulder. His chest was heaving as small gasps fell from his parted lips in time with Brian's strokes. But all that ended far too soon as Brian pulled his hand away and gently pushed Frank to scoot away and stand up from the bed. Frank practically whimpered. He gazed to the man, the look on Frank's face clearly saying 'Why the hell did you stop?'.

Brian moved to sit on the edge of the bed and looked up to Frank with a smirk. "Can't let the fun end that soon, can we?" He gave Frank's shorts a sharp tug, pulling them down his legs. Frank found himself shaking his head slightly in agreement, though part of him was definitely starting to feel uneasy. Frank had been pretty much dictating the pace of how serious things got, but now Brian was definitely taking control. Frank felt his boxers being yanked down next. And though he felt his heart nervously race, Frank went ahead and toed his shoes off so the man could more easily rid him of his clothes. Brian stood then, slowly and hungrily eyeing Frank up and down. Completely exposed and vulnerable, Frank suddenly felt very awkward again, and it definitely showed in his anxious eyes.

"You okay?" Brian asked sincerely.

"Um, yeah," Frank smiled weakly to the man. "I might just be a little nervous about where this is headed.."

"No worries, pixie. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to." Brian paused. "Maybe you'd like to make things a little more even." Brian dragged his hands down Frank's arms, taking the boy's hands in his own and moving them to his belt. He didn't give Frank a chance to verbally respond, Brian bringing his hands up to either side of Frank's face and pulling him into a deep kiss.

Frank lost himself immediately in that kiss, and found himself quickly fumbling with Brian's belt buckle. Frank may have been nervous and very out of his element, but he was definitely being driven by a much stronger feeling: he was horny as fuck. He unfastened the button and pulled down the zipper, pushing down the pants and boxers the little ways that he could reach while still attached to the man's mouth.

"Lay down," Brian spoke. It was an order; but in a soft tone, and Frank didn't haven't any objections to following it at the moment.

Brian shed his clothes the rest of the way and was on top of Frank in an instant. Their lips connected again, and their hips pressed together. And there Frank was in some spare bedroom in a friend's parents' house naked, under another naked man, kissing him heatedly, rubbing against him.. Never in a million years would Frank have ever thought he would be in this position and enjoying it. This was much different than with a girl —more than the obvious reason between the legs. The touch of those rough calloused fingers and having someone bigger and stronger all over him like this.. it was an electric kind of uneasy. Raw and exciting. The bliss of skin to skin contact.

There was this building ache in the pit of Frank's stomach that he had never felt before, and the more they grinded against each other, the deeper and bigger that ache got. Frank slowly pushed Brian back a little, and bit at his lip nervously. Frank's mind was whirling in overdrive as he fought to understand and accept what he wanted. Holy shit was he terrified, but his body's overwhelming need was stronger than any opposing thought or feeling. Frank was coming to terms with what he wanted, but was entirely at a loss as to how to go about getting it without feeling like he was humiliating himself. Brian stopped his movements and shot him a questioning look.

Frank swallowed down hard. "I- Do you have any condoms with you?"

"Are you trying to fuck me, Tink?" Brian smirked with a raised brow, "Or are you looking to get fucked?"

"God," Frank breathed. There was that embarrassed smile again, and Frank felt pretty certain that his face turned scarlet.

Brian's smirk got even wider. "You want me to fuck you," he practically sing-songed.

"Shut up!" Frank half laughed and covered his face with one of his hands. "This is really fucking weird for me, alright? Be nice!"

"I've been playing _very nice_." Brian pulled Frank's hand away and gave the boy's lower lip a nip with a playful growl. The action was oddly reassuring to Frank. "Hang tight."

Brian moved from the bed for a moment and retrieved his discarded jeans from the floor. He pulled a condom and a lube packet from his wallet, and it kind of didn't surprise Frank at all that the man traveled well prepared. Frank sat up as Brian climbed back on the bed kneeling beside him, but the man took hold of Frank's shoulders and slowly guided him to lay back down. This made Frank feel more uneasy. He was suddenly feeling self-conscious. Sure, Frank was just in this position going at it with the man, but that was all 'mouths attached, eyes closed'. This was sex now. This was going to be more intense. Frank certainly wanted to go through with it, but laying this way meant Brian would have all eyes on him, and eye contact would just make this even weirder than it already was. "Um, wouldn't it be better if um, you know, you were behind me?" Frank managed to voice with his cheeks a lovely shade of pink

"Oh hell no, little man, I wanna see you when I make you come."

Well that statement shot right to Frank's groin. Maybe this position would work out just fine after all.

Brian ran his hands down Frank's thighs, giving the boy a serious look. "You're sure?"

Frank nodded. He felt like he could drop dead from how nervous he was, but he was very damn sure about wanting this. His eyes roamed over his friend's body, lingering a bit on the important part. _That_ was about to be inside him. This was insane.

"It's gonna hurt a little," Brian admitted, "but just hang on pretty boy and I will make you feel so fucking good." That husky whisper was enough to make Frank stop breathing temporarily. "Just relax and trust me. Okay?"

Frank swallowed down the nervous lump that had grown in his throat and nodded, speaking back with a quiet voice, "Okay."

Frank psyched himself to just relax. Sex with a guy? He could do this. Casual sex? He could do this. No big deal. Relaxing didn't really seem possible, though. Frank was a mess of anticipation and nerves, but god, his body was aching for this. Brian stayed knelt beside him and guided Frank's legs apart, bent at the knees.

"Just relax," Brian spoke softly.

And then with a gasp from Frank it was happening, a finger slowly slipping inside.  Frank kept his eyes shut. It was a very new sensation, and he wasn't sure if he liked it at first. But he did know it certainly didn't feel bad. Brian moved his hand against him slowly, now leaning down and kissing over Frank's chest, making the experience more pleasant. And holy shit, this was real life right now. This was happening. One finger became two, and Frank winced a little at the initial sting.

"Breathe," Brian urged softly, bringing his free hand up to rub and toy at one of Frank's nipples.

Frank fisted up the blanket in his hands at either side of him and took in a shaky breath, trying to keep himself relaxed and his breathing even. That uncomfortable feeling steadily ebbed away the more those fingers slowly moved. In, out. Twisting. Stretching. Frank found himself moaning softly. Okay, so maybe he did like it. Brian's hand moved against him for another moment, and then the feeling of those fingers pulling away made Frank open his eyes. He gazed up at Brian with a look of absolute lust, like he was truly drinking in and appreciating the man's looks and body for the first time.

_I'm about to get fucked by that, and I couldn't be anymore okay with it._

Brian raised a brow, silently questioning Frank if he was still alright. Frank gave him a small nod and held his breath as he felt the anticipation burning in the pit of his stomach. The rip of a condom wrapper, the squirt of more lube, and Brian positioned himself between Frank's legs, those legs now loosely curled at Brian's sides. Brian tucked his hair between his ears and leaned down to kiss lightly at Frank's neck, making the boy shiver.

"I have been waiting for this," Brian whispered in Frank's ear in a low tone that caused yet another shiver. "You have no idea. You are a hot little shit."

Then Brian was pushing his hips forward slowly, just enough for only the tip to enter, and Frank inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut. This was a lot more to take than two measly fingers. This was the part he had been afraid of. He was sure it would hurt; and God, did it, but it surely had to get better. Frank gripped at the blanket tighter, clenching his jaw and trying to keep his breathing even to hide his distress. Brian pressed a few more kisses to his jaw and quietly mumbled for Frank to tell him when to go again.

Frank took comfort in the action, and did his best to relax. He swallowed down and took in a deep breath. "O-okay."

Frank groaned in pain as Brian pushed in further, drowning out the man's hiss of pleasure. Brian had paused for a moment before he pulled back to deliver another slow shallow thrust. Frank thought for sure Brian was going to rip him in two, but didn't voice any objections. Brian did seem to be moving as gentle as possible, and it wasn't all pain. Brian kept moving carefully, and Frank held back anymore pained noises that wanted to escape. That soon didn't become a problem, though, as with every movement Frank found the pain lessening. Pleasure was the dominate feeling now. Brian had told him he just needed to hang on and Frank was glad he did. The pain lingered a little, but this, _this_ had become good.

Frank could now most definitely soak in the pleasure of Brian's movements.  His chest rose and fell quickly as he started breathing a bit harder. The pained look on his face was long gone, his eyes calmly closed as a small moan drifted from his lips. And Brian took that omission of pleasure as his time to push in deeper with a low moan of his own.

"Oh fuck..." Frank groaned out, his jaw dropping open and locking his legs tight around the man.

Brian stopped moving then, just all agonizingly still and buried to the fucking hilt. Frank forced himself to breathe slowly as he got used to the size, and then he couldn't help but tremble slightly. Shouldn't Brian be moving? He should be moving. Frank _needed_ him to move. Because if he didn't, Frank was pretty sure this was going to be the death of him.

"Please." Frank opened his eyes, desperate and lust laden, locking his gaze with the man over him. "Fuck Brian, please..."

Brian smirked just a little. He dipped down for a moment to kiss the boy hard and murmured just how fucking hot Frank was and something about 'so tight' before he started to move again, keeping his rhythm purposefully slow and deep. Eyes closed once again, Frank panted and moved his hands to rest at Brian's biceps, gripping them tightly. Frank was never one to be very vocal during sex, but this was sex he wasn't exactly used to. This was sex on another level. Frank was a moaning mess that couldn't be bother to be embarrassed by it. As promised by the older man, Brian inside him felt good. So fucking _full_ and _good_.

And somehow it got even better as Brian moved against him at another angle. A small cry shot from Frank's mouth along with a gasping "holy fuck", and a knowing smirk curled at Brian's lips. Hello prostate. Moaning shouts now accompanied every fast thrust, and Frank gripped at Brian's arms tighter, his nails digging into the skin. Brian was happily making it all too much. Frank was so fucking close. He was so wrapped up in every little feeling shooting through his body, he just barely registered Brian's husky breath coaxing him to come. Frank unlatched one hand from Brian's arm and wrapped it around his own length. He started to pump his hand desperately in time with Brian's movements, but Frank barely had to touch himself before he was pushed over the edge. His mouth fell open in a silent scream as the heat in the pit of his belly and between his legs finally washed over his entire body. His head rolled back, his back arched, and his muscles tensed as his body began to tremble with the waves of pleasure.

"Fuck," Brian groaned. He kept himself braced up gripping at Frank's shoulders then, his fingers surely leaving marks.

Frank let out panting cries as Brian continued to rock into him. Harder. Faster. This was it. This is how Frank was going to die. The kid was sure of it; and also pretty okay with it. If there was any good way to be snuffed out of this life, being fucked senseless was it. Brian groaned deeply, a tremor going through his body as he found his own release. And Frank could fucking _feel it_ , and it made him tremble even more. Brian took the time to ride out his orgasm before slowly pulling out and collapsing to a somewhat crumpled mess on the bed beside Frank. And Frank just let himself lay there limply for several minutes; damp hair matted to his sweaty forehead, eyes closed, and his body feeling like a tingling pile of melting jello as he tried to catch his breath.

In his hazy afterglow Frank felt Brian shift and move off the bed. It took Frank a few more minutes though before he could force himself to peal his eyes open. Brian had his pants on already and was zipping up the fly. Frank sat up slowly and scooted back to prop himself up against the head board. His eyes drifted away from Brian down to the mess on his stomach and back up to his friend again.

"Shit," Frank let out a small disbelieving laugh. He just let a guy fuck him, and he liked it. "That really just happened, didn't it?"

"Mm, it did," Brian sighed contentedly. He finished fastening his belt buckle and retrieved the rest of the clothes from the floor. He tossed Frank's onto the bed and smirked. "You seemed to enjoy yourself."

Frank was blushing and just sitting back still completely exposed, but he found himself not caring. Not after what he just did with the man. "I'll just say, if you've never been on the receiving end, I'd highly recommend it." He showed a half cheeky grin. "God, I was really fucking loud, wasn't I?" A bit of embarrassment crept over him. "I don't usually get like that."

"You're welcome, then," Brian laughed. "Welcome to bisexuality, buddy." Brian finished getting dressed, putting on his shirt and shoes and then gave Frank a departing nod. "See you back outside. You might wanna clean yourself up first," he teased and then he was out the door.

And that was it. They fucked, and Frank was left naked and sticky. Frank should probably be freaking out right now. He never in his life did anything like this before. This was probably going to be a regret that would blow up in his face and ruin any sort of normal friendship with Brian and possibly make it too weird to stick with this job. Hell, it could blow up in his face in a matter of minutes. And then there was the fact that all his new friends were right outside. Maybe someone had come in. Maybe someone had heard. Maybe their time in the house alone together was suspicion enough. Maybe Brian was on his way out there to just brag about it himself. Frank would probably implode from the awkwardness of the situation.

Yeah, this was all probably a huge mistake. But fortunately, at least in this moment Frank was spared from feeling panicked. He was actually pretty damn content. A touch of a smile curled at his lips. Who wouldn't smile when they just got laid?


	5. SYN WAS HERE

 

On the road with Avenged Sevenfold. It really wasn't that long, but Frank felt like he was fucking born to do this. He fell easily into the swing of how this touring shit worked. Frank felt at home, even if home was eight people packed into a van. It was the job he loved at his father's club but on another level of enjoyment. At the root of it, his job was grunt work, helping out wherever he was most needed. Setup. Breakdown. Tuning. Cleaning. Repairing. Driving. Merch. Drunken-mansitting. A lot of people wouldn't get it, just seeing a little lackey doing a whole lot of hard work for shit pay and shit living conditions. But there was more than that. Even more than the 'get drunk and high and party' atmosphere. Frank was a part of something. A mission. A family.

Frank found a group of people and a way of life that just clicked for him. Who in the world actually ever finds that? Nineteen shows in twenty-two days, and he had been through twelve different states. Frank was already wondering if he ever wanted to go back to work for his dad. Even with the lack of sleep, lack of personal space, the smell of the van, insane pranks, awkward meetings of new people, being the one charged with cleaning up Johnny's vomit from the front seat... Frank was happy. There was adventure, camaraderie, music, sex, and alcohol. There was no way that combination could get any better unless it was drizzled with chocolate.

Warped Tour was an amazing tour to be apart of. Where it was sort of a competition to get potential new fans to check out your band during all the dueling time slots, the tour was really a big hectic traveling family of its own. Frank was thankful to be apart of it. Today's set had been particularly energetic. Any gig where a mud fight mosh pit breaks out is definitely a success. The fairgrounds were about seventy-five percent mud due to torrential downpours the night before. The rain held off on the gray dismal day, but there was definitely mud everywhere. And in a lot of places the kind of thick, glutinous mud where you were swallowed up to your ankles and there were plenty of abandoned sandals and sneakers left in the wake.

Frank and Dan were by the van trailer finishing up wiping down the crud covered equipment the best they could before loading it up inside. Mostly everything was going to need a more proper cleaning once they were somewhere less disgusting. The slightly less muddy gravel parking area of travel-by-van-land was not the place to do it. There were a few hours left to the tour day, which would be dedicated to getting merch sold, helping out friends in other bands, and Frank's favorite of just being able to wander around and enjoy the atmosphere and music. Dan took off to help some other guys out as promised, and as Frank was nearing thirty-six straight hours of being awake he was keen on attempting to take an hour nap before taking a turn at the merch booth.

Frank looked down at himself. His degree of mud-coveredness wasn't too bad. The front of his shirt had a pretty big chunky splat mark from being caught off guard from a renegade mudball. His shoes and socks were a complete caked mess, heavily splattered up his exposed lower legs, but his dark gray shorts were spared for the most part except for a few superficial smudges. Considering, he was pretty clean. As clean as a person can be going on four days without a shower anyway.

Chelsea was the aiding girlfriend 'tour mom' for this tour and she had let everybody know that absolutely no mud was to get inside that already disgusting van, and to defy that would mean certain death. So shoes off and taking a seat in the sliding door opening, Frank slowly pealed his once-white-now-brown ankle socks off with a disgusted look on his face and wiped off his legs with an already dirty rag.

"Ah ah," the scolding female sound came from a few feet away. "Don't you dare get in that van with that shirt on!"

Frank looked up to see Chelsea walking toward him. She was about an inch taller than Frank. Long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail with a few lose wisps framing her face cutely. Intense green eyes, deep pink painted pouty lips, a busty chest.. to be put bluntly, Frank's sister was hot. A gorgeous girl with a kind mothering heart —especially when it came to her little brother— but she could hold her own with the big boys. Chelsea Clark was a loving and helpful individual that also didn't take shit from anyone.

"I was just gonna take it off!" Frank held his arms out defensively. "You're more of a mess than me anyway." He looked her up and down. Her shorts, Avenged shirt, all exposed skin... she was properly splattered all over.

"A girl's just having fun," she grinned. "But I'm only grabbing water, not drudging mud in our house. Do you know where Zack is? The ass isn't answering his phone," She asked as she dug out four bottles of water from a small cooler on the floor of the front passenger side of the van.

"No idea," Frank answered, pulling his shirt off and just dropping it to the ground.

Chelsea pressed her lips together firmly in disappointment as she shut the door and turned back to her brother. "I hope he isn't off doing anything too stupid already for.. Shit, is that a hickey?" She gathered the bottles in one arm and eyed the large dark purple mark in the crook of Frank's neck and shoulder where it had previously been hidden under his shirt. She bit back a smirk on her face.

"What are you talking about? I don't... fuck.." Now Frank hadn't very well known he had a mark there, but if Chelsea saw one then he knew exactly how he got it and where it had to be.

Chelsea giggled and gave the love bite a little poke. "Well, look at you lover boy."

"Quit it," Frank swatted her hand away. "I uh, um.."

Chelsea giggled more. "No need to explain yourself. By all means, baby brother, have fun. You deserve it after dating that soul-sucking bitch for almost a year."

Frank groaned, annoyed with the name-calling. His sister never liked his ex-girlfriend. "Lynn is not a bitch."

Chelsea shot him a pointed look, and Frank had to give a little relenting sigh.

"Okay, maybe a little bit of a bitch."

Another look.

"Okay! A big fat crazy bitch," Frank admitted. "But she's still my friend so chill out."

"You're an idiot. But chilling out. At least you're moving on," Chelsea eyed the hickey again. "Oooh, was it that bass player you were chatting up yesterday? Hm, what's her name.." Chelsea mused to herself.

"Amy. But no," Frank shook his head, "I wasn't _chatting her up_. And no. Just no."

"Mhmm, sure," Chelsea grinned, intent on believing what she guessed to be true. "Maybe I'll have to make friends with her."

"Oh my god, don't," Frank groaned. "Stop being weird, Chels!"

"Don't you worry about it," she laughed and pecked his cheek. "Get some sleep, Squish. Motel night, but your turn to drive us there."

"Right. Seems like it's pretty much always my turn."

"I've fought to give you a break a couple times. But gotta respect the low man on the totem pole rules," she showed a crooked smile. "Sleep. Don't worry about coming to the booth, we've got it covered."

"Okay.." he watched her walk off. "Don't you talk to that girl!" He called out after her. "I'm serious! It wasn't her!"

Frank sat slumped a little bit after his sister disappeared from view, and sighed. Stupid hickey. Though Frank could definitely recall the actions that had to have made it. And it certainly had been enjoyable. He pulled his phone from his pocket and used the camera function to check it out. Holy shit it was big and an angry kind of purple. Stupid Brian.

So yes, it was from Brian. Avenged Sevenfold Synster Gates Brian. Brian who was his friend Brian. Brian who he had sex with three weeks ago Brian. Frank didn't intend for anymore 'sexual fun' to happen after that. He may have skipped out on going to college, but Frank figured he was still owed the cliché experimentation. It had been an enjoyable fling; just a one time deal. But it seemed Frank's body and mind weren't totally on the same page. That one time turned to two then three, plus the couple more "innocent" steamy moments like the one that led to the dark bruise Frank was sporting.

Nothing was ever planned out between the two young men. When those rare moments arose where they were alone and somewhere secluded enough, Frank couldn't fucking help himself. This whole situation was weird and new, but Frank completely and utterly accepted that he was putty in Brian's hands. Addicted to the man. But if you asked Frank if he liked guys, he'd swear up and down that he didn't. Sure there were guys he thought were hot shit, but none he physically lusted after. Brian was an anomaly. An anomaly that Frank enjoyed very much. The Frank of old never would have imagined he'd be settled in a casual sex situation with no qualms. He was the odd teenage boy who needed that emotional connection before the physical one. But with Brian, he didn't care. Frank Iero found himself a goddamn fuckbuddy, and he was more than okay with it. Frank the newly sexually liberated wholesome kid paired up with Brian the manwhore. Frank was fine with the arrangement, and he would let himself roll with it and enjoy it as much as possible before he came to his senses.

Their extra friendly relationship was kept under wraps from everyone. They were discrete about their few hookups, and Frank was extremely grateful for the unspoken agreement that this fooling around was being kept a secret. He wasn't ashamed of what he was doing with Brian, but Frank viewed it as nobody else's goddamn business. The guys knew Brian messed around with both girls and guys, so Frank wasn't scared about them thinking he was gay or bi or whatever. They were cool guys; they wouldn't give a shit, and neither would his sister. But the fact that the dude he was casually fucking was Brian.. some kind of weird backlash or unbearable teasing would happen, Frank could feel it in his bones. He was settling into a pretty awesome life right now, and if part of that life needed to be a secret to keep things comfortable, then so be it. No one else needed to know anyway. This was just between him and Brian. His _very_ good friend Brian.

And speak of the devil...

Brian walked with a quick pace up to the van, decently mud splattered, baseball cap askew over a bandana, small paper bag in hand, and a self-satisfying smile on his face. "Yo, Zacky in there?" he asked Frank, the kid still sitting in the opening of the side door.

"No. He's MIA somewhere," Frank answered and watched Brian's line of sight drift to his neck. The man smirked, and Frank scowled. "Yeah, about that.." Frank pointed toward the hickey, "What the fuck?"

Brian chuckled. "Hey wee man, weren't exactly complaining during the making."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Well no more fucking marks. Chels saw and she's being all 'you go get some little brother'. And it's creepy and gross."

"She know it was me?" Brian asked with an amused sort of interest.

"Fuck no," Frank huffed crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm fairly certain she'd kill you."

"What?" Brian practically snorted in disbelief. "She loves me."

"Sure," Frank shrugged and pulled out a rare smug smile of his own, "but she loves me more. And you're clearly taking advantage of me."

"You like me taking advantage of you," Brian said back, sultry as fuck, and Frank was finding himself mentally fanning himself down from that very true statement.

But Frank was too tired to be troubled with feeling all hot and bothered. Flirt time needed to end, and maybe it was time to have that unspoken agreement spoken; even with how weird Frank felt having to talk about it out loud. "Whatever," he played off. "Listen, this whole.. _thing_ were doing, we've kept it between us, right? Let's just keep it that way, yeah?"

"Don't worry, Tink, the last thing I'd ever do is scare away a lay as hot as you."

"Fuck," Frank blushed. "Stop that! Just keep your mouth shut. And remember, no more of this shit," he gestured to the hickey.

"You love it." Brian smirked as he moved closer and slowly trailed a finger over the dark mark.

Frank involuntarily shivered. His eyes darted around the parking lot for a second. There wasn't much going on but it wasn't exactly deserted either. These kind of actions were for private, not for where any other people who were hanging around their vans or walking near by to see. But Frank didn't exactly push his friend away.

"But if this is really going to be the last one," Brian went on in a mischievous tone, "the least I can do is make it look a little better. Get in the van."

That was an order Frank was a little torn on complying with. First off, #1 Van Rule was 'No Fucking In The Van'. And sure, it was a rule that definitely got broken even despite how gross it got in there, but Frank hadn't personally broken it. _Yet_. And then of course, even though the thing had dark tinted windows it was in a far-from-being-empty parking lot in the middle of the day. Frank did have some modesty and morals left. Sort of.

"I'm not fucking in here.." Frank voiced firmly, though he was scooting himself into the back of the van obediently where the last two rows of seating had been removed, there instead a makeshift bed that usually four people shared at a time.

Brian climbed in, put his bag down on the backseat, and didn't even bother with closing the door. "Who said anything about fucking?" Brian said with mock innocence, pushing Frank down fully on his back and climbing over him.

"Chels is gonna murder you, you know. Your clothes are pretty dirty."

"I think you just want me naked."

Brian didn't give Frank a chance to offer a comeback. The man tossed off his hat and dipped his head down, going straight for the crook of Frank's neck. He licked and nipped over the hickey there, and though Frank's brain told him to stop this madness, especially with the fucking door open, all he could find himself doing was turning his head to expose his neck more. More biting and kissing. Lovely sensations. But then the sensation changed: a bizarre sort of quick light scratching. It definitely wasn't teeth or a fingernail. And all of a sudden Frank knew very well what it was. That was the feel of a fucking marker tip. Frank was being drawn on.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Frank yelled.

And at that first sign of Frank starting to struggle, Brian dropped his full weight down on on top of him, Frank's body and one arm properly pinned; and the man grabbed a firm hold of Frank's hair to keep his head in place so he could apparently complete his masterpiece. Frank tried to wiggle free and continually smacked at Brian's shoulder with his free hand, but Frank's efforts were in vain. Brian slipped off Frank on his own accord, finishing what he needed too and smirking happily about it.

Frank scrambled away the little space he could from his so-called friend up into a sitting position back against the wall of the van and glared daggers at Brian. "What the fuck did you do?" Frank hurriedly got his phone out and again used it to check the damage. His mouth hung open a little when he got the angle of the phone right. On the side of his neck above that large purple mark was a messily scribbled message with an arrow pointing down at the dark bruise.

_SYN WAS HERE_

Frank didn't know how to react at first. Angry? Amused? A smile of disbelief spread across his face. "You fucking asshole piece of shit," Frank said through a breathy pent in laugh. "Find me the fucking baby wipes. This better wash off, you fucking douchebag."

"Hey now," Brian laughed, "is that anyway to talk to probably your best friends in the whole entire world?"

"Maybe not a normal friend. But to you... Fuck you." Frank crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes glaring with a playful mock anger. "Maybe I'll just go ahead and quit."

"Please," Brian smiled cockily, "you love this job too much already aaand you love my dick too much to ever leave." A lovely shade of pink spread over Frank's face. "There it is.." Brian reached over to give Frank's rosy cheek a pinch. "You're too easy."

"Just shut up," Frank snapped, but he was smiling stupidly.

Brian chuckled and reached between the backseats and tossed Frank the wet wipe package and retrieved his own bag setting it down in his crossed-legged lap. "Good luck, munchkin. I hear Sharpies are a bitch."

"Asshat.." Frank muttered and proceed to scrub hard at his neck with a wad of wipes. "What's in the bag?"

"Crickets."

"..I'm sorry, what?" Frank paused his actions. Clearly he hadn't heard that right. "Where the fuck did you get crickets?"

"I managed a ride to PetCo," Brian grinned. "Me and Zacky are planning on turning the Devils Will Fall van into a cricket sanctuary and trash dump."

"Shit," Frank laughed. "Is this payback for the Saran Wrapping?" he chuckled more, thinking fondly of the prank pulled on Brian yesterday. The fine fellows of Devils Will Fall ambushed the guitarist during Avenged's set yesterday, trapping the man's arms down in cling wrap as he still tried to play his guitar.

"Damn right. They're gonna figure out quick you don't fuck around with Synyster Gates. You want in? You can always just piss inside it or something?"

Frank snorted, "I'll pass. I really—"

Frank was interrupted in the form of his phone ringing. He smiled at first when saw the contact on the screen: Lynn. She had been texting and calling him regularly, and it was nice to have someone back home besides his dad and stepmom that truly missed him. The 'maybe not so hopeless' friendship was slowly on the mend, but still Frank's smile fell. He definitely preferred texts over actually having to talk to a person on the phone, and it was especially the case with Lynn. With texts the conversation usually stayed light and silly with minimal sparks of Frank getting upset over her boyfriend bullshit, an upset that he could easily hide. But real phone conversations —where they would start out fine and friendly— usually took a turn where Frank couldn't hide the fact he was upset.  There would be drawn out awkward minutes of 'sorrys' from both, and then post hang up Frank being torn in half over wishing Lynn was dead to him and desperately wishing she could be his best friend. Healthy relationship? Not so much.

"I know that look," Brian pursed his lips together and shook his head. "Don't do it, man." Brian knew the stupid little story of Frank's ex to an extent and had witnessed enough post phone calls where Frank's mood turned depressed to give the kid the warning.

"Fuck off," Frank rolled his eyes. He could never not answer if Lynn was calling. "Hey," he greeted into the phone.

"Hey.." she cleared her throat a little, "Can you talk now?"

The smile came back in hearing her voice. "Yeah, nothing going on. I'll have to make it a little short to squeeze some sleep in, but—" Frank's eyes narrowed as Brian snatched the phone away. "What the fuck are you doing?!" he hissed. "Give it!"

Brian just smiled sweetly and brought the phone to his ear. "Hey there sweetheart, now actually isn't the best time.."

Frank practically growled. He scurried to grab the phone back, but Brian's longer arm fought at keeping him at bay.

"Yeah, you could say that," Brian continued on with the conversation that Frank could unfortunately only hear one side of.

"Knock it off!" Frank kept up the struggle while Brian managed to hold Frank off and carry on with Lynn.

"Me? Oh, I'm just the dude in the back of a van trying to get laid with this hot little roadie." Brian smirked evilly at Frank, fighting not to laugh at the face Frank made: somehow equal parts seething and petrified. "......Did I stutter? Listen, you're killing the mood here, sweetheart. I'm sure he'll call you back after he wakes up from the coma I'm gonna fuck him into. Later."

And there, the call was ended. Brian give up the fight and handed off the phone. Frank took it back with a nasty look. "I can't believe you just did that."

"Did what?" Brian shrugged with a smile. "Saved you from feeling like a retarded little mope later? Showed that cunt you're having plenty fun out here without her? Take your pick."

Frank opened his mouth to argue but found that he couldn't. He knew in his gut Brian was right.  More often than not he ended up sad by the end of a phone call with Lynn. And that whole 'showing her he's having fun', well... maybe it did make part of Frank feel a little deviously gleeful. Lynn had moved on from their relationship so fast, and that was constantly in Frank's face when they interacted. Frank was sure that Lynn never intentionally went out of her way to make him feel upset, but there was no denying it was nice to possibly (hopefully) give her a taste of her own medicine. A laugh actually fell from Frank's lips, "God, she's probably flipping her shit."

"You're welcome," Brian said simply with a grin.

"I feel like I should probably be angry with you, but.. Shit. I am very okay with what just happened."

"I don't know why you keep up this charade of being friends with her," Brian commented with another shake of his head. "I've never met her and I hate her."

Frank sighed. "She doesn't do anything on purpose. I'm just.. a tad bit over emotional."

"I've noticed," Brian smiled. "So, down for a quickie, dude?" Such tactful grace. "We're alone..."

"I don't think you've corrupted me enough to full out make this van go a'rockin' in the middle of the day in a full parking lot."

"Yet," Brian smirked.

Frank rolled his eyes, even though he couldn't help but agree with that statement with the way Brian was turning him into a sex-crazed tiger. But for now Frank had a tiny bit of integrity left and more importantly, seriously need some sleep. He held his phone out to see the progress of cleaning off his neck graffiti and groaned. 'SYN WAS HERE' was still very visible. Frank scoured at it for another few seconds only succeeding in turning his skin a lovely irritated red color and slightly fading the writing. "Dammit Brian."

"Sucks," Brian shrugged with a unsympathetic smile.

"How am I supposed to explain this?"

"I think you pretty much had it right earlier. Just tell 'em I'm an fucking asshole piece of shit."

"They're gonna see right through me," Frank frowned helplessly. "Then shit's gonna get too fucking weird for me to handle."

"You worry too much."

"You worry too less," Frank shot back. "You need to let me make it fair. Give me the marker."

"Like fuck I am, pipsqueak."

"Come on, it'll make this be more believable as a joke. Plus you owe me this," Frank contended, "You peed in my shoes."

"You know that was just a drunk mistake," Brian brushed off, "I thought they were Johnny's."

"That doesn't change the fact that I put my foot inside a piss soaked shoe." Frank leaned closer toward his friend, narrowing his eyes and practically speaking through clenched teeth, "I swear to fucking god, Brian, I am gonna have the biggest fucking freak out if you don't let me do this. You don't even know. _You don't even._ So you're gonna give me that fucking Sharpie, and you're gonna let me write something fucking stupid on your fucking neck. Do you fucking understand me?"

"Jesus, Tink," Brian held his hands up in defeat. "Fine. You know.." he mused handing over the marker, "it's pretty hot when you're being all Mr. Tough Guy."

"Shut your mouth," Frank grumbled with an embarrassed smile. He got close and tried to bite back a smirk as he began writing a message of his own. "Hold still."

"What are you putting?" Brian asked. "I swear to god if you're drawing a dick..."

"Please," Frank scoffed, "I'm not that uncreative." He wrote quickly and pulled away with a small grin, admiring his handiwork.

     _I  ♥_  
_Johnny_  
_Christ_

"What is it?" Brian asked skeptically.

"Don't worry about it," Frank shook his head nonchalantly, then yawned. "Just go do your cricket thing. I need to sleep." Frank went ahead and laid down, but he wasn't even able to get comfortable before a shout left Brian's lips.

"You did not!" Brian was having his own go at checking out his neck writing on his phone screen. The man was smiling. But an angry smile. A kind of smile that told Frank that he needed to get his ass out of that van before it got beaten.

It didn't matter how tired he was at the moment —not when you have your own ass to save— Frank scrambled with an insane quickness past Brian out the door even before his friend finished getting the words out, "you are so dead".

"It's even now. Don't make this worse," Frank warned, carefully watching the man stare him down from the van doorway. "Besides, don't we _all_ love Johnny Christ? I know I do."

"Dead," Brian repeated.

So it was on, and Frank just acted; acted in the form of scooping up one of his mud soaked socks from the ground and hurling it precisely at Brian's face. The thing hit with a _schlop_ and actually stuck to the skin on contact.

Distraction acquired.

Frank grinned and took off in a run through the parking lot, soft proclamations of "ow" leaving his lips with every footstep as the gravel dug into his bare feet.

Brian remained still in shock for a moment before slowly pulling the soggy sock off and dropping it to the ground. "That's it Frank Iero! You better go hide back in whatever Keebler Tree you fell out of, because it is ON!"

Frank neared the entrance of the fair grounds of the tour and groped for his lanyard pass clipped to his belt loop. Thank god he was still wearing his shorts and hadn't stripped down to his boxers. He came to a reluctant stop at the small group of security. His body unable to stop itself from staying in a light in-place jog as he held the pass out for one of the men to inspect. "Come on come on come on..." Frank chanted impatiently under his breath as he looked over his shoulder to see Brian easily gaining on him.

The guard gestured for him to move on through along with a 'you idiot musicians and your stupid shenanigans' head shake. Frank didn't waste a second and darted into the grounds. It only took a few steps before he was running through mud deep enough to completely swallow up his feet. 'Running' being used loosely here as he couldn't move through the muck that fast. The while he was smiling widely as he hurried through the sea of mud spattered kids, because he could appreciate just how ridiculous this all was. The merch booth was his destination in mind, because if anyone could get Brian to stop this madness it was Chelsea.

His sister wasn't going to save him though.

"You're mine, bitch!"

It was Brian's voice, and then it was Brian's body colliding with Frank's back. It sent him flying forward down into the mud with a thick smacking splash. So there he was in the middle of the Warped Tour grounds: scantly clad, sleep deprived, utterly exhausted, tackled into mud by his best friend, and feeling crushed by the weight on top of him...

Frank's loud laughter mixed with Brian's. This was on the road with Avenged Sevenfold. He really was having the best time of his life.  


 

 

 


	6. Shenanigans and Blow Jobs - Part 1

Back in New fucking Jersey. The tour day had ended in Holmdel and with tomorrow being a day off it meant driving out to party the night up at Frank's dad's club, Shenanigans. And there was that added bonus of being able to crash at his house. Frank was happy to be back. Despite all the fun he was having, he did miss his home.

It was that time of night where Shenanigans was starting to get busy. It was filled with a decent amount of patrons even with the speakers pounding out recorded music instead of it being a live band night. It was a loud hustle and bustle that Frank didn't mind at all. He was practically raised in that bar. There were definitely worse childhoods.

The band had entered in through the back entrance where Frank's dad was waiting for them. After pleasantries were exchanged and the group made off to get their drink on, Frank lingered to give his father a more proper hello. They shared a brief warm hug, and Frank pulled away with a smile. They didn't look that much alike in the facial features department, but his father had kindly blessed him with the same vertical challenged-ness.

"What the fuck is that?" Was Mr. Iero's greeting, poking high at his son's neck where a freshly inked scorpion now resided.

"A good life decision? ..That may or not may not have involved me losing a bet about being bench pressed fifty times..?" Frank shrugged with a cheeky smile.

"Dumbshit.." his dad muttered with a smile. "I don't even wanna know."

"I like it," Frank grinned. He knew his dad really didn't care. The guy did let him start getting tattoos at age seventeen. "I can never get a real job now."

"Working for your old man ain't a real job?"

"You hardly count."

"Ungrateful little bastard," his dad laughed.

"Hey, the apple don't fall far from the tree, right?" Frank grinned.  Their father/son relationship was clearly amazing. "Mom around?"

"Behind the bar, last I saw." He slung his arm over his son's shoulder and started leading him further into the building. "How's about we go say hello and you have a drink or two with your old man. I'm sure you've got a few stories you failed to tell me over the phone."

"You're not getting me drunk," Frank said firmly. A completely normal everyday thing an 18-year-old son tells his completely normal 44-year-old father.

~

And Frank was drunk.

He wasn't completely far gone but teetering on the edge: smiley, a little chatty, and in a happy haze. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't getting hammered every night out on the road. There were only two incidents of DrunkFrank to speak of. But now he was back home, didn't have to drive anywhere that night, and most importantly the drinks were free. So in the end he decided tonight was a night to let loose.

Frank was distracted from the silly conversation going on with his friends at the large corner booth they were sitting at. His eyes were on the mass of people on the dance floor. He wanted to go out there among them and just fucking _move._ Frank Iero did like to dance, drunk or sober. And when he did live here you could catch him out on the floor every once in a while sometimes with his girl, but mostly by himself. It was one of those odd things that he didn't get self-conscious about. It was too ridiculous and freeing of a stress reliever. He elbowed Brian, who was blocking him in the booth.

"What?"

"Let me out. I wanna go shoot back another drink, then go shake my ass," Frank grinned widely.

"This I'm watching," Brian chuckled and scooted out of the booth, a bit inebriated himself. "If this is anything like the pool table dance on my birthday, I'm in for a treat." He looked back to his friends at the table and cleared his throat loudly. "Attention, attention! The pixie will soon grace us with his superfly dance moves!"

"Try to keep your shirt on this time, hey Frankie," Matt teased though the chorus of whooping and laughter.

"Fuck all of you," Frank announced loudly through a laugh and with both middle fingers raised. "That was ONE time! And it was REALLY hot in there."

Frank retreated, making his way to the crowded bar. And with the perk of being the owner's son a shot was quickly acquired and downed. He notice then that Brian had followed him.

"Fuck off," Frank told him, but somehow in a friendly way. He may have been drunk but he knew what his friend was up to. Frank might not have cared about dancing in public, but that didn't mean he was okay with this asshole making a video of it and slapping it up on YouTube.

"What?" Brian drawled with a feign innocence. "I was just thirsty."

"Sure...." Frank scanned the large room, his drunken mind trying to concoct the best way to lose Brian so 'ass shake free spirit' time would remain undocumented by the man's phone. He looked over to the side of the dance floor opposite to where his friends were sitting. He could make a dash toward those tables, enter the floor from the left, work is way to the middle and— "Shit!" Frank harshly cursed. He quickly snapped his attention away from the tables his was looking at to Brian, a look of dread on Frank's face.

"What's wrong?" Brian cocked a very confused brow.

"I think I saw Lynn," Frank groaned. "And I think she saw me."

Brian chuckled, shaking his head. "Now if she's such a good friend shouldn't you be happy to see her?" he pointed out in a teasing manner.

"I am. Well, I mean.. Fuck. You don't understand what she does to me."

"I understand you need to drop that bitch like a bad habit."

"I don't need your fucking two cents," Frank rubbed his hand down his face. "She hasn't talked to me since I tried to explain away your stupid phone call hijacking. You made things worse than they were. Is she looking at me? That fuckface is there with her." His happy haze was being broken at just the thought of having to interact with the two of them together.

"Well, if she's the tiny little blond number by the black pillar, then she's looking and waving," Brian broke the news, looking like he was trying —and failing— to hide an amused smile.

Against his better judgment, Frank turned to look. It indeed was her sitting at one of the tables near the dance floor smiling and gesturing for Frank to come to her. He was not in the mood for this, not with Andrew sitting there with her. But this was Lynn, so at the same time he did want to go to her. He felt dread clawing at him to stay put, but he also felt the pull of her more. That woman had some serious gypsy curse hold on him. Frank sighed. He was a weak-hearted fool and couldn't ignore her. "Dammit," he muttered.

"Just get it over with," Brian rolled his eyes and gave Frank a gentle nudge in Lynn's direction. "I will be a true friend and get you another drink ready."

"I can do this," Frank nodded with a drunk certainty. "I'm gonna be nice and shit, and not punch that dude in the face. Not at all."

"This is going to be fun to watch," Brian remarked as Frank gathered a smile on his face and made his way over.

~

"Hey," Frank greeted Lynn, leaning down to give her a half hug where she sat.

She was three years older, which generally isn't a bad age gap, but at the ages that they were when they started dating it maybe should have been a red flag for Frank not to date a twenty-year-old chick keenly interested on pursuing a relationship with a kid that just finished his junior year of high school. That was probably the sign of some issues; but hey, it was an older hot girl that liked him. To Frank, Lynn had been the best kind of miracle. She was pretty as ever, practically glowing even in the dim light of the club. A short little thin thing looking cheery in her colorful spaghetti strapped dress.

"It's so good to see you," Frank went on, and it was the truth in that moment being face to face with her smile ...Plus that last shot he took was sinking into his brain quite nicely. The happy crept back over him; his obvious drunken grin matching her bright sober one.

"You too," she patted his arm kindly. "I'm glad I spotted you. I was hoping to catch you here while you were in town. Oh my god," she said with a shocked smile, spotting the tattoo on his neck, "is that real?"

"Yeah, it's fucking rad, right?" Frank squatted down and folded his arms on the table top, resting his chin on them. "You know, you look really pretty tonight," he stated with a reckless abandon. Something a sober Frank wouldn't have said in front of her boyfriend, but Frank didn't leave that douchebag out either. "You too, Andy," he giggled finally acknowledging Andrew's presence at the table and knowing full well the man hated that nickname.

The dark-haired hipster mustache having bastard had this bored sort of murderous look on his face. One that told the fact that it certainly wasn't his idea to go hang out at a club in hopes of seeing his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend. Especially when Frank was a drunk idiot. Andrew was much taller and older than Frank. They were very opposite in personality, but the hate between them was very mutual. Frank smiled at the guy sweetly while Lynn held back a giggle.

"So," she cleared her throat, "I can't believe you've been gone from home for over a month."

"I know!" Frank said back enthusiastically. "It's crazy, right?"

Andrew piped up. "Being single must make it easier being away and traveling around," He kept his expression neutral with that little quip, but Frank could see the smirk within.

Frank was still competent enough to know it was meant as an insult.  His eyes narrowed and he stood fully to his feet, "Listen-"

"Hey.." Lynn quickly butted in, desperately changing the subject with Frank, "so I know you've told me a bunch of awesome stories but for real it's working out? Living on the road like that?"

"He's a goddamn natural," the voice came from behind Frank. It was Brian; the man moving to Frank's left side. He held a drink in one hand, and his free arm slid around Frank's shoulders.

A perplexed expression flashed across Frank's face. Brian hated Lynn, so his friend willingly coming into her presence didn't seem right at all. Frank quizzically looked to him, trying to form some kind of question, but before he could speak Frank found his lips captured by Brian's. Immediately Frank's eyes slipped closed and his surroundings fell away as he automatically leaned into that kiss. It was very short, very simple, but very intoxicating with that perfect slight touch of tongue. Brian was the one to pull away, and Frank suddenly remembered where he was and just who he was kissing in front of. But he was drunk enough for it to not completely phase him just how in public it was, like it was only in front of Lynn and Andrew. Frank felt awkward and giddy. He couldn't read the exact expression on Lynn's face, but she was definitely uncomfortable. He couldn't help but giggle.

"Well baby, you gonna introduce me or just stand there?" Brian said, looking to Frank expectantly.

Frank blinked. _Baby?_ His brain made slow work of piecing together was Brian was up to. This was another knock Lynn down a peg ruse. Frank giggled again. Sure, he'd play along this time.  Lynn had her boyfriend there; why shouldn't Frank have one beside him too to make it even? "Uh, right, sorry. This is Lynn and Andrew," he introduced. "And um, this is Brian."

"Oh right, that Lynn." Brian pulled his arm away from Frank and gave a curt wave. His eyes shifted to Frank as he still spoke to the girl. "Sorry it didn't work out.." Brian let a finger trail from Frank's jaw, down his neck, and to the middle of his collarbone. "But your loss is my gain, sweetheart." Brian flashed her a shameless grin, before he took Frank's hand and made a show of placing an affectionate kiss on top of it.

_Oh snap!_

"This is for you," Brian handed off the drink to Frank. "I'm gonna go back to the bar and get something for me. Come find me when you're done here. Don't take too long now, baby," Brian ended that with a sharp playful slap to Frank's ass before he just walked off smirking.

And Frank was blushing deeply, smiling stupidly, and trying his best not to giggle. He was in too much of a drunken stupor to worry about if his and Brian's fake-relationship/real-dirty-friendship just really had been outted. He found himself at a loss for words, and stared impishly and somewhat helplessly at the couple seated in front of him. Lynn looked shocked and a little hurt, while Andrew held a look of indignant disbelief. The man was either fighting to keep his mouth shut, or trying to figure out what exactly he should be mad at in the first place and yell accordingly.

"Um, Frank.." Lynn spoke first, "can we talk? In private?"

"I guess so."

Lynn brought her attention to her boyfriend, biting her lip, "That's not a problem, right?"

"Of course not," the smile he showed was definitely forced.

"I'll be just a minute, promise." She smiled backed, got up to kiss Andrew on the cheek, and then grabbed Frank around the wrist.

Frank found himself being basically dragged through the club by the tiny woman, the while trying to sip at his drink with the least amount of alcohol sloshing out and dibbling down his neck. It was through the 'Employees Only' door then right on into his dad's office. It was empty and much more quiet. Lynn frowned at Frank, who was taking another swig from his glass. He was feeling _good_ and completely oblivious to Lynn having a problem.

"Jesus Christ, I know you're already hammered, but stop for a second." She snatched the glass away and put it down on the desk. "What the hell was all that?"

"What?" Frank questioned genuinely.

"Oh, I don't know? That shit with that guy?" She propped her hands at her hips. "Is he that asshole that talked to me on the phone? You and him.. No. I mean, you're not fucking gay. Just.. what the hell, Frank?"

"Geez, you don't have to get so angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Riiight," Frank grinned slowly. "You're jealous." This was actually kind of nice. Seeing her in his shoes, rattled at seeing him moving on from her.

"I am not."

"You're jealous my boyfriend is hotter than yours," he went on with loud eruption of giggles.

"Frank," she groaned, "I'm serious here! Stop messing with me. What did I ever do to you?"

"What did you ever do to me?" he snorted. And then he let it pour out, gesturing wildly as he spoke,  "How about changing into a fucking loon while we were together and making me feel like shit. All I ever did was love you and be there and hope to god things would get happy again, but you drove me away. And how about getting back with that douchebag right away. That killed me. Killed me! God, I hate him. I hate him. I've always fucking hated him." Frank exhaled with a crazed happiness. It felt so good to get that off his chest.

"I'm sorry." Lynn chewed at her lip, looking to Frank sadly. "I'm sorry for the way my stupid brain works. I'm sorry for everything. But I'm not the one that did the breaking up Frank. I loved you. I still do."

"You couldn't trust me," he said pointedly with drunken narrowed eyes. "How could you love me if you couldn't trust me? That's what crushed me the most."

"I did! I do!" she insisted desperately. "I've been trying so hard to change how I worry and yeah, get jealous. Things could be back to how they were in the beginning if you'd just give me a chance. Just give me the word, Frank, and I will leave Andrew in a heartbeat."

Frank's head spun a little. He was not in the right frame of mind to be making decisions. "I don't know.. I..."

"I know you still love me. You're not really with that Brian guy, are you?"

"What if I am?"

"Then I'll make you remember what it's like to be with me."

And then she was on him, lips and tongue immediately attacking his own. And what else could DrunkFrank SpitSwap McBadDecisions do but cling back to her and kiss back with the same ferocity. His brain was screaming 'WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!' but was also flashing back to those happy days with her, some of those days fooling around in that very office. This was awesome. He was going to get back together with his girlfriend, and this hankypanky behind Andrew's back was the perfect middlefinger Frank wanted to throw at the man. It could have only been better if Andrew was there chained to wall being forced to watch.

Yeah, this was awesome even if Frank had a tiny bad feeling in his chest and something didn't quite taste right. He had his girl back in his arms and that was good. Things would be amazing between them again just like she said, and DrunkFrank Asshat McHornypants believed it. Her delicate fingers were at his belt buckle, and it was undone and pants pushed down a ways in a matter of seconds. Lynn sunk down to her knees, and a wave of heat washed over Frank ..but that pesky feeling in his chest grew as well. All at once he was inside her warm mouth, and fuck, it felt good.

But it didn't feel _right_.

And it wasn't the fact that she was still technically dating someone else. Fuck morals and Andrew. No, the fire in his belly wasn't as hot as it should be. There was no flitter in his gut. It wasn't the right press and swirl of the tongue. It wasn't the right mouth. It wasn't Brian.

"Fuck..." Frank breathed, but it wasn't over that lovely thing Lynn was doing with her lips. There he was getting blown by the girl he had desperately hoped to make his again someday, and he wasn't feeling anything for her. "Stop," he spoke almost halfheartedly, because he damn well still felt the physical pleasure of it. "Stop stop stop.."

Lynn did, pulling back and looking up at Frank with confusion and worry.

"I can't do this. No. Fuck." He pulled up his pants and began struggling with getting his belt fastened.

"Frank.." She stood and placed a hand on his chest. "You don't have to feel bad. Andrew's getting dumped as soon as we walk out of here."

"I don't give a fuck about him," Frank shook his head. "You.. Brian...." he struggled to start, not really sure how to elaborate with the jumble of thoughts in his head.

"Are you fucking kidding me? There's no way you are actually with that guy. You are not gay. I h"

"I must be a little, 'cause I really like having his dick up my ass," Frank let out a burst of laughter.

"Frank Iero!" She looked like she was about to either murder him or burst into tears. "This is the last time I'm ever gonna beg for you back. Just think sober for a fucking second and stop playing around with me."

"I'm not playing. I.. I don't think I like you anymore. Shit," and Frank let out a loud giggle of happy disbelief. It was like her claws had finally released his heart, but he soon felt instead the hard slap of her hand to the side of his face.

"Ow!" he grabbed at his stinging cheek.

"Fuck you! Fuck you Frank Iero! We had something good once, you know."

"Well, I found something better," he said unabashedly with a grin.

"I can't believe this!" she screamed out in a huff, her eyes wet. "We're done completely! I hope you're having fun being a fucking faggot!"

She stormed out.  And that was it then? Lynn was out of his life? The weight she caused on his chest was gone just like that. Frank suddenly thought of the reason he was able to get rid of it: Brian. Why the hell had Frank even started thinking about him anyway? Lynn had a wonderful mouth and knew how to use it, but it was his goddamn fuckbuddy that was on his mind. So Brian gave him a better blow job once.. No biggie. But it was more than that. It was more than Frank knowing he could get it better somewhere else. It was that he was doing it with someone that wasn't Brian. And that was stupid. Him and Brian weren't an item. Even though he'd only been with Brian since his move to California there wasn't any expected exclusiveness to their fooling around with each other. Perhaps Frank's brain had gotten mixed up just enough from Brian's prank, confusing 'Brian the fake-boyfriend' with just 'Brian the boyfriend'.

Frank giggled to himself at the thought: Brian really his boyfriend. Ridiculous. Frank never thought of his friendship with the man being anymore than what it was. It was something that never even remotely crossed his mind before. Frank had been fine with their arrangement. Even after their awkward start, Brian turned out to be awesome. A fast friend Frank quickly felt utterly at ease with. Frank could be silly, stupid, angry, sad, anything; just himself while he was around the man. Reaching that level of comfort never happened so fast with someone before. Brian was definitely special, but just a friend —who shared the occasional romp.

That act in front of Lynn had just been silly. Brian giving him that sweet little kiss. Brian's arm around him like that. Brian kissing the top if his hand. Brian calling him baby.....

Frank's giggle to himself faltered. Maybe it wasn't so bad to hear his friend call him that. Maybe it would be nice to hear it again. Maybe it would be nice for them to share a simple kiss just because, and not just ones deep and hasty because they were in the mood for a convenient quick fuck. Maybe just wanting to hold hands wouldn't be weird at all.

"No no no no no no no.." Frank muttered to himself, shaking his head and grabbing at either side of it lightly.

He was totally being drunk and stupid letting these what-if romantic thoughts even come to his mind. Any extra friendly feelings he had for Brian were strictly physical. End of story. Brian was just a friend. A ridiculously hot and casual sex partner friend. That was it. ...But Brian was funny too. He was smart. He was caring. The epitome of cool with this big goof inside. A fun tease. Helpful. Confident. An arrogant motherfucker, and it suited him well. And there were those times Brian only had to look at him with the right look in his eyes and Frank's stomach would knot up in the best possible way...

Frank left his dad's office in a hurry, like doing so would make the feelings stay put in the room and he'd be able to escape them. Unfortunately, they of course followed him back out into the noisy club. Frank didn't know what to do with himself, staring vacantly out at the dance floor. He was in this drunken swirl of panic, denial, and wistful longing. Then standing at the edge of the dance floor Brian came into focus, and Frank felt an ache. And it wasn't one of those familiar aches he got in the pit of his belly or between his legs when it concerned Brian. This ache he felt in his chest. In his heart.

"No no no no..." he muttered to himself again, wrapping his arms around himself.

This couldn't really be happening. Him and Brian had a good thing going, and now this stupid eruption of feelings was going to ruin it. If Brian found out, the results would only be crushing. Brian Haner Jr. was strictly a "hit it then quit it (when it starts to get clingy)" kind of guy. He didn't do relationships, and now that's all Frank could think about wanting.

Brian noticed Frank then and ditched the young woman he was talking to and made his way over. Frank was both thrilled and terrified. "Yo, Tink. I noticed the 'cunt couple' rushing out of here in a hurry. Your dear girl look particularly pissed."

Frank put his game face on.  He could do this.  Act normal ...ish. "Yeah.." Frank chuckled. "She was a little pissed I didn't let her finish sucking me off and me telling her I didn't want her anymore."

"Holy shit!" Brian clapped his hands together in approval, a huge open mouth grin on his face. "That's my boy!"

"I could be your boy," Frank spoke back automatically, but luckily not loud enough to be properly heard over the music.

"What?"

"I didn't say anything!" Totally not suspicious how Frank yelled that back or anything, but Brian was just drunk enough not to care or notice.

"Oookaaay," Brian laughed. "Listen, Jessica over there," he nodded back toward the girl he had been with, "is ready to go if you get my drift, but she's got a friend with her that kinda needs company..." Brian wiggled his eyebrows to get his point across.

"Oh.." Frank's face fell. Brian was making this whole falling for him thing even harder right away, asking Frank to be his goddamn wingman so he could fuck someone else.

"Don't worry dude," Brian misinterpreted, "I mean, she's not _as_ hot, but she's still fucking hot."

"No," Frank shook his, "I can't do that with some girl I don't know."

"You practically did it with me," Brian smirked.

"That's because you're different," Frank began to drunkenly ramble, "and awesome and sexy as fuck, and you tease me all the time and I fucking love it, and you're this fucking fire and perfect. Oh my god, you're so perfect, Bri. Like fuck, how could I not see it before, you know?"

"Holy shit," Brian laughed. "Have another one, buddy. I didn't know you were this sloshed." A bit of disappointment touched his eyes, "I guess joining me on a one time hook up isn't the best idea then. It's cool though, bro, I told her you were shy, so yeah.. I'm sure Jimmy will be more than willing."

"Okay then.." Frank said slowly. He was still trying to compute that he said a bunch of things that he probably shouldn't have, and was part relieved and part upset Brian didn't get it.

He watched Brian retreat back to the young woman, slip his arm around her waist, and start to walk off with her. The guy he liked now was off to have sex with someone else. Frank felt some sadness, but mostly a jealous anger. But Frank couldn't very well hate Brian right now; this was Brian being Brian after all, so in that instant Frank hated that Jessica whore instead. He didn't know her, but he sure as fuck hated her. She was making off with what he very desperately wanted to be his. Now SoberFrank would just dejectedly watch this happen, but DrunkFrank... DrunkFrank had some balls.

Frank quickly walked up behind Brian purposefully and gave his friend a few firm taps on the shoulder.

"Ah," Brian grinned, "Change you're mind?"

Frank grabbed him by the arm and wrenched him a few paces away from that bitch.

"Dude!" Brian shot Frank a confused glare. What the fuck! I-"

Frank didn't let him finish. Over his dead body if he was going to let Brian go off to sleep with someone else tonight. Frank grabbed a hold of Brian's collar and yanked him down eye level. "I don't care if you've found some other fine thing you wanna drill tonight. You can fucking forget it. You are coming back to my house right now and fucking the shit outta me."

Brian's jaw actually dropped. Frank did instigate things a couple times, but this was a whole different level of forward. 

Consider Jessica forgotten.

 

 


	7. Shenanigans and Blow Jobs - Part 2

Frank and Brian had slipped out of the club without telling anyone. Though while they were in the cab Brian did send Jimmy a text to relay the message of him helping poor drunk Frankie home if anyone asked about their disappearance. It was thankfully a very short cab ride to the cozy Iero/Clark household, but it was still a wait that Frank wished didn't have to be.  No time was wasted in Frank letting them inside and leading the way up to his second floor bedroom. It was still clean from Frank being ordered to do so before his temporary move to California. A few posters of punk bands lining the walls, tidy floor, tidy dresser, crisp made full-sized bed... Not for long. Frank ripped the blankets down and motioned for Brian to get closer.

"Not even gonna offer me a sandwich first," Brian teased, kicking off his shoes and coming to stand beside the bed.

"You can make you're own fucking sandwich after."

Frank stepped in front of him and flashed a mischievous smile before he pushed a very unprepared Brian down flat to the bed. Frank quickly clambered on top of the man, straddling his waist, Brian's legs hanging off the side of the bed. Desperate thoughts of wishing he and Brian could be something together weren't a bother to Frank right now, because in this moment Brian was all his.

A look of surprise flashed across Brian's face for a mere second before a sort of pleased look took its place. He reached up and grabbed a fistful of Frank's shirt and pulled the boy down for a very abrupt rough kiss.

"Why the hell have we not fucked drunk yet?" Brian said with a bit of a lustful look in his quizzical gaze. "But you might be a bit more far gone than me, you know.." Brian stated, though his hands wandered up underneath the hem of Frank's shirt, his fingers slowly making their way up to Frank's chest.

Frank's breath faltered a little from the light touch. "I know what I'm doing." Frank closed his eyes and nuzzled his cheek against Brian's. "I fucking want you," he whispered hotly in Brian's ear. Frank nipped that ear, his teeth tugging on the lobe gently with a small growl that ended in a soft giggle.

"Shit you are turning me on." Brian seemed satisfied with Frank's reassurance, whether it had been real or coy concern for Frank's current state of mind. "Off," he ordered, giving Frank's shirt a sharp tug.

Frank eagerly complied, and much to his delight Brian's hands were all over him as they were again connected at the mouth. It suddenly felt like heaven. Even if the cold hard truth was Brian only physically wanting him, Frank could do this. In these moments he could settle with pretending that they meant more.

After a nice bout of heated and messy kissing, grinding, and roaming hands, Frank felt Brian start to push him away. Their kiss broke and Frank looked quizzically to the man. Brian just gave a none too subtle nod and glanced down between his legs before giving Frank a rather innocent yet expectant look. A silent unabashed request for a blow job.

"Really?" Frank grimaced; he'd only ever did this once before. A very hesitant and very awkward 'return the favor' once before. "Didn't I kinda suck last time? That was so weird and embarrassing." A short giggle leaked out, changing Frank's expression to a self-conscious smile.

Brian laughed. He took hold of Frank's hips and rubbed up against him. "You did fine. Actually, you somehow made getting a blow job cute," he chuckled a little more.

"Hey!"

"I meant that in good way," Brian assured. "That whole me corrupting your innocence stuff.. That get's me so fucking hot. But I mean, if you think you need work, you're only gonna get better if you practice. Hm?" Another expectant gaze.

Frank rolled his eyes, but he moved down to kneel on the floor and made little work of removing Brian's shorts and settled between the man's legs. It was slow shallow bobs of the head while his grasping hand worked the rest of the shaft, and taking a second every now and then to tease his tongue around the tip. He ventured to take him in his mouth deeper, something that didn't really bode well last time, but with plenty of alcohol in his system this time, it had the nice effect of quelling his gag reflex. This was better. He was managing to draw out some lovely noises from Brian, and Frank definitely enjoying hearing those.

"Mm, practice makes perfect.." Brian murmured, letting out a very long contented sigh.

Frank inwardly smirked. A few more bobs of the head and swirls of the tongue and Brian carefully pushed Frank back.

"You better be ready, because I'm fuckin' taking you right now."

Brian's words made Frank's heart quicken along with feeling a pleasant twitch between his legs. Before Frank could uttered any kind of response, Brian was up from the bed and practically scooped Frank up from the floor and threw him onto the bed in his place. Both were properly stripped down to nothing, and Brian was on top of Frank within an instant. The man raked his nails down Frank's chest, leaving red stinging marks behind, and the bites across his neck and shoulder were the hardest Frank ever felt. Frank hissed and groaned and cursed and squirmed from it all. It hurt _good_. Drunk sex-crazed Brian was terrifying and amazing.

Safe, ready, and set between Frank's legs, Brian was about to deliver, but as much as Frank wanted this he was suddenly feeling a bit uneasy about the position he was in. "Wait.." Frank voiced breathily before Brian could take things any further.

"Something's not wrong is it?" Brian leaned down to speak hotly against Frank's neck, giving the already tender skin there a hard bite. It made Frank grit his teeth and his toes curl. "I know you want me."

"I do.." Frank breathed. "You're just.. being a bit rougher than um ..ever."

"Shit," Brian's mind seemed to clear, and he pulled away from Frank a little. "I can get a little carried away with more than a few drinks in me. Are you okay?" He looked to Frank seriously. "Did I hurt you?"

"Well, um, actually, I kinda like it," he admitted with an embarrassed smile. "But maybe.. Let me be on top?"

"You wanna fuck me?" Brian raised a brow; he didn't sound too sure.

"What? Ew." Frank's face screwed up in distaste. "No," he shook his head vigorously.

"Excuse me, 'ew'?" Brian cocked a bow indignantly.

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" Frank spoke rushed as he tried save himself of his less than flattering comment. "You're like fucking hot as fuck, and like the only guy I've ever really appreciated the hotness of. I mean I guess I've had my man crushes, but they don't really count, right? Silly celebrity stuff and Matt and that guy with the long hair that works at the gas station..."

"Wait, Matt? Like, _Matt_ Matt?"

"Yeah. Like those dimples, am I right?" Frank giggled, then his eyes got wide realizing what slipped out. "Wait no! Don't you fucking dare ever tell him or anyone! Okay shit, maybe there actually are kind of a lot." Frank giggled a bit. "Huh, I guess I am bi then? Maybe like a 70:30 ratio? I really love lady parts, but I really like your parts. Like not guys parts, but _you_ parts and what they do to me. But I could never ever ever stick my little guy into anybody's backdoor. Male or female, sir. Gross. Eck."

".......I have no idea what to say to any of that.." Brian failed at stifling a laugh.

"No. What? Is that weird?" Frank couldn't help but ramble on. _Stop talking you dumb drunken fuck._ "I said I like it when you do it to me. That is the complete opposite of gross. So that's a compliment or something, yeah? I mean, you seem quite okay with this arrangement. Like my ass is strictly a Haner only landing zone," Frank could feel his face flush and he giggled at himself. "Alright, shit, fuck. Okay.. Fuck. Right, I'm gonna stop talking now."

"I'm not usually one for a lot of talking during sex, but this had been fucking awesome. I don't know if I wanna fuck you more right now or trap you into a noogie." Brian shook with laughter.

Frank opened his mouth to speak but managed to control himself and close it. Now was not the time to fall even further victim to alcohol induced chattiness or possibly blurt out some kind of 'I want to be your boyfriend' proclamation. It was time to make Brian forget that these past few minutes ever happened. It was time to ride that dick like a fucking stallion.

Frank gave Brian a shove and somehow managed to spring his body up into a side tackle that rolled Brian off him and on to his back. Frank was on top now, smirking.  He delivered a few of his own rough bites to Brian's neck. Some more sloppy heated kissing and grinding.  They were revved up again and ready to go. Frank was straddled and lined up, already breathing heavy as he slowly started to lower himself on to Brian. A long low groan drifted from deep out of Frank's throat. This position was a first, but Frank already knew it was going to work out damn fine.

He settled with keeping Brian buried in deep and moving his hips ever so slowly in small circular motions just basking in feeling so goddamn full. He was barely moving but was already so noisy. The same could be said for Brian, but Frank had him beat. Especially now when they were absolutely alone, and Frank didn't have to worry about anyone overhearing. No holding back. No biting his tongue. No covering his mouth. And that was good because keeping his volume down was probably going to be pretty damn hard tonight. Frank seemed to be extra in tune with every nerve ending in his body.  Everywhere Brian's hands glided over his skin left a trail of pleasant fire in the wake of his touch. Up and down the thighs, up over his taut abdomen and further still to his chest.

Those hands slid down to a stop at Frank's waist and gripped the kid tightly. He was being guided to move up and down; and as he eagerly complied, it sent both men to release a string of groans.   That thickness, that heat.  Every motion from his body was electric, and it drove Frank to move faster.

"You like that? You like fucking yourself on my cock?" Brian lowly rasped, dragging his nails once again down Frank's chest and leaving more marks. "You little slut."

"Shit...." Frank hissed, partly because of the pleasant sting on his chest, and partly because of Brian's coarse words.

So DrunkBrian liked dirty talk?  This was a new discovery. Frank felt a flash of embarrassment; but more so, it was kind of a fucking turn on. It lit the fire inside Frank even more.  He rode down rougher, making his moaning more low in tone and spastic.

"Mm, look at you. You can't fucking get enough," Brian went on, murmuring between his low groans. "That thick hard cocks feels so good, doesn't it?"

"Ahh.. yes.." The words came out in a panting breath.

"You want more, hmm? So deep in that tight, tight ass of yours?  Tell me you want it, dirty boy.  Tell me you fucking _need_ it."

"God...." Frank moaned out desperately, "Yes... fuck.. yes... I, I need it.. I need you so bad.."

Brian's hands gripped at Frank's waist tightly, and the man thrusted up in time with Frank's downward movements, making the clash of their bodies that much more intense.  That much deeper.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck...." Frank grounded out.  "You feel so fucking good. Ah, fuck.."

Frank managed to relish in the feeling of this insanely satisfying collision for what happily felt like ages, but then he had to slow down.  He didn't want to, but he was starting to feel the fatigue in his useless thighs. He relented back to keeping Brian buried in deep, continuing the pleasure with a powerful rhythmic rocking of his hips.  Frank was glistening with sweat. Hair messy with strands of his locks matted to his forehead. His whole body moved like a wave, head tossed back and his jaw hanging open, freely letting that symphony of breathy moans fall from his throat.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Brian managed to breath out, running his hands up and down Frank's thighs. "Mhm, that's right. Keep moving. Just like that. Fuck.."

Brian soon took a hold of him; that hand firmly pumping Frank's length. With that added sensation it was suddenly getting hard to breathe.

"If you keep doing that I'm gonna fucking come," Frank spoke raggedly, struggling to hold off from this coming to an end.

"That's the idea," Brian said back hotly. "Come on baby, come for me.  Just let go."

Those words sent a new wave of heat through Frank and certainly didn't help with his struggle to last longer.  And it didn't go unnoticed to him that Brian had called him baby.  It was definitely an 'in the moment, didn't mean anything' baby, but to Frank it fueled the fantasy in his head that he and Brian were in this heated moment together as a real couple.  Frank let that fantasy —as well as his intense double sided pleasure— consume him.  He happily gave in, because right now he was Brian's; and what his boy wanted was for him to feel that mind blowing bliss.

Frank came with a yell.  The sudden rush of his body-tensing orgasm made his movements slow, but more purposeful.  The surge erupting through him felt never ending, and made Frank dizzy in the best possible way. He had to fight to not just collapse.  But Brian ended up pulling him down anyway.  Frank's face was buried in the man's shoulder as Brian's strong arms kept them pinned together at the chest.  This wasn't over yet.  Brian was the one rolling his hips now.

"I love watching you do that," Brian breathed into Frank's ear.  "God, that face you make....."

And Brian moved faster, his legs drawn up some and his feet pressing hard into the mattress to give him more leverage.  Brian was relentless.  Frank could only clutch fiercely to his friend's shoulders as Brian pounded up roughly beneath him.   This time Brian's moans were the most dominant as Frank's were getting muffled against the crook of the man's neck.  Frank was quickly slipping into a sensory overload; where he felt absolutely fucking amazing, but was on the dangerous brink of it becoming torturously too much. And just as he was about to yell out that he couldn't take anymore, he could feel Brian finish.  _Hear_ Brian finish.  That low guttural groan hit Frank's ears like music. It was a few more lazy roll of the hips, and it was over.

Frank's bed had never seen such action. He had _needed_ that connection. It satisfied the ache in his chest for now. It had been hard to disconnect himself from Brian when they were in an almost cuddling position.  But it had been even harder to fucking walk.  Making his way to the nearby bathroom for his turn to clean up had been quite the arduous and humorous endeavor.  At least the return trip was proving easier.

~

Frank slowly walked naked through the upstairs hall feeling content, a little less drunkenly retarded, and looking very much forward to curling up beside Brian and just falling asleep together. When he got back in his room, though, Brian was already back in his jeans and currently pulling his shirt on.

Frank frowned. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna go raid your fridge before anyone else gets here," Brian said, gathering up his shoes from the floor. "Your folks still have that extra room in the basement?"

"Um, yeah..?"

"Cool, I'll crash there." He made his way to the doorway where Frank was still naked and frozen in place. Brian paused for a second beside the kid, and gave his ass a slap. "Again, that was fucking awesome, man. See you in the morning."

Frank stood dejectedly were he was for a few more drawn out seconds before flipping off the light and trudging his way back to his bed. He was feeling a miserable combination. His body still tingled from satisfaction, but his chest was caving in. He was so stupid to do this. Not with how he felt now. Not when his heart had seemingly caught up to what his body knew all along. He couldn't be just a casual fuck anymore. He didn't want Brian to be just some close friend with benefits. Frank wanted Brian to be _his_. And it was sad and laughable, because that was something that would never happen. As much as Frank wanted it, Brian just wasn't that kind of person. The lost cause of it all was already painfully heavy.

Frank curled up in bed, covers up to his chin. He could smell Brian on the pillow and it made him swell with sadness. But still Frank buried his face further into it, breathing deeply. This was as close as he was going to get to a post sex cuddle. And god, did Frank ever wish that Brian was there and willing to be stupidly sappy. Just holding each other and falling asleep.

This was going to drive Frank insane. He should probably just stay home when it was time for the band to roll out tomorrow evening. It would save him a lot of grief, but Frank knew he couldn't just walk out on his new family. Something needed to change though, or Frank was going to hopelessly pine over his friend until it made his heart explode. Frank sighed. As much as it was going to kill him, he needed to end the physical shit with Brian before Frank fell any further. It was going to suck, but in the long run it would make it easier to get over this mess of feelings. Brian was his friend and that wouldn't change.


	8. He's The Coolest Guy At The Party, And He Can Prove It With A Killer Guitar Solo

This adventure of Frank's was supposed to be over by now. When he first agreed to move out and help the band for a bit, it was only supposed to be for two tours then back to New Jersey. Well, those tours were long over, and Frank was still in Huntington Beach. There was nothing on Earth that could have made Frank leave. This was his family now. Frank was in this for the long haul; he'd do anything to help these guys succeed. He was so happy he got swept up to become a part of the roller coaster ride. And things only got more hectic. The music video, ever growing popularity, a legit manager, and major label offers to be hammered out.

Frank was happy he stuck around. Even if he had been living poor on a couch; though, maybe it wouldn't have been that bad if he didn't spend the little money he made on a beat up motorcycle and more tattoos to cover his arm. Still Frank was happy to be with the band even with having that secret infatuation for one of its members. He had tried to dam up his feelings and force them away. It was an admirable effort, but also a futile one. The heart wants what it wants, and there's little to nothing anyone can do to reason with it. Frank Iero liked Synyster goddamn Gates.

Being around Brian was kind of torture, but Frank knew it would have been more painful to not be around him. The situation made Frank feel crazy, but at the same time being in Brian's presence is what made him feel sane. Frank's promise of cutting out the physical part of their friendship didn't exactly pan out as planned. Brian looked the way he did after all. Felt the way he did. Tasted the way he did. And anyway, it would have looked suspicious that something was going on with Frank if he suddenly told Brian he was done with all that. At least that's what Frank told himself.

So Frank had played it safe. Tried his best to make it look like everything was the same as it always was, though Frank couldn't help but gravitate to Brian more. Wherever his friend was, Frank tended to be right there with him, for the most part basking his in company but that little twinge of sadness was never too far off. Sadness that he kept telling himself would eventually go away. But with his smitten interest for Brian only seeming to grow by the day, even Frank couldn't pretend to convince himself any longer. This stupid secret crush was in fact crushing him, and Frank didn't want it to be that way anymore. He couldn't let it be that way anymore.

A new phase was dawning for the band. And why not for Frank too? A new phase. A new start. A new beginning to be brave and bold and insanely stupid. He was going to tell Brian. Frank couldn't let himself be this pathetic little sap anymore just sadly wishing for things to be different. He wasn't going to be that dipshit that finally cut all ties to a fucked up relationship only to find the true one he wanted and be too scared to do anything about getting it. Frank had been growing into a more confident person since he moved from home. It was taking chances that brought him to where he was, and he was ready to take another one.

Well, after today. But tomorrow, tomorrow was the day. Definitely.

Frank sighed as he left Brian's apartment.  He wished he had the guts to tell his friend tonight, but he wasn't about to screw up what could have possibly been his last bootycall. His last kiss, his last taste, his last touch. Tomorrow was going to bring either the end of their physical relationship or something more meaningful. Or maybe even something friendship ending.  Frank mostly held the expectation of the worst outcome, but he did have a tiny speck of hope.  And he was clinging on to that speck for dear fucking life.  Being with Brian just then had been amazing while it lasted, but this was the last time Frank was going to put himself through that whole have sex and just 'see ya later, man' dejection.  It needed to end one way or the other.  It was wearing him too thin. He walked the short distance to Zack and Chelsea's door sad, nervous, and brooding.  He was already getting worked up over what tomorrow would bring.  God, what would he be like when the time actually came to get the words out to Brian?

He let himself into the apartment and kicked off his shoes.  It was only seven in the evening, and Frank just wanted to curl up in bed and just sleep off the rest of this self-doubt and feeling sorry for himself bullshit. But unfortunately his bed was still a living room sofa, a sofa that was currently occupied by his sister watching TV.

Some casual "heys" were exchanged as Frank made his way to the kitchen. There was a big fat slice of leftover pizza calling his name, but Frank just closed the fridge door with a sigh. Was he seriously too distressed to even eat? This was a new level of the blues. He made his way back to the living room, plopped down on the opposite end of the couch from Chelsea and hugged his pillow loosely to his chest. Frank let his chin rest atop it, and he just tried to let himself get immersed in whatever BBC detective show Chelsea was watching, hoping it would take him out of his own cruel head.  His mind was racing around with nerves and second guessing.  His inner voice taunting his plans as a huge mistake and chipping away at what little confidence he had.  It needed to shut the hell up before Frank caved in and listened to it.

"Alright, just spill it already," Chelsea suddenly spoke.

"What?" Frank played dumb.

This wasn't the first time she tried to strike a conversation to figure out Frank's sporadic dismal moods.  He was good at hiding them, just except from her.  He knew his sister was genuinely concerned, knew she only wanted to help; and hell, Frank wished he could talk to her about it. Chelsea was his go-to when he needed to spill his guts or vent, but this shit with Brian, it was too private and weird and out of his comfort zone to discuss with his sister.  And if things went horribly wrong with Brian tomorrow, the last thing Frank wanted was anyone else knowing. He didn't want to be showered with awkward pity.

"Frankie, come on," Chelsea sighed. "I can't keep ignoring you being like this."

"Like what?" he shrugged. "I'm just fucking sitting here trying to watch TV."

"Bullshit.  I've done enough sitting around watching my baby brother fall into these dark moods.  You didn't want to talk those other times, okay.  But now you look like to wanna crawl out of your own skin on top of looking like someone drowned a kitten in front of you.  Maybe you think you're hiding it, but I keep seeing it.  Something's wrong.  Just talk to me."

Frank bit at his lip ring and avoided looking at his sister.  He did not want to do this.  Maybe if he just kept quiet she'd drop it.

"Are you in trouble?"

"No." Frank swelled with guilt hearing the worry practically dripping from her voice.

"Please just tell me.  Something's wrong, and I'm just here to help you.  Let me help you."

"Chels..." Frank spoke at a crumbling loss.  Her absolute concern and pleading practically punched Frank in the gut.  She cracked it.  She cracked the wall built around his secret with her stupid fucking love, and Frank sighed helplessly.  "Just don't worry, okay? It's just something stupid.  I promise.  I'm hopefully gonna fix it soon.  So just, it's okay."

"Nothing's okay that's making my Squish miserable.  It's almost the same shit with Lynn, but at least you talked to me and- Oh no, this isn't about her is it?"

"No!"

"God, please tell me you haven't been talking to her again. You've had that bitch in your life long enough. I know how much she meant to you. _I know_. But that girl flew the fucking cuckcoo's nest. I know you probably still don't acknowledge it, but the truth is that was a mental and emotional abusive relationship you were sucked into. Please just be done with her. You can't be bangin' it with Miss Hoover and still be hooked on Lynn."

'Miss Hoover' had become the nickname for who his sister believed to be a mystery girl Frank was hooking up with. But of course there was no girl; Brian was the hickey-leaving vacuum mouth. Yes, there was a 'leave no marks' rule while on the road because shit couldn't be hidden and coming up with a story of who he was consistently getting them from didn't seem feasible. But when they were home all bets were off. The possibility of Frank hooking up with some unknown person in town was believable, and Frank could hide most of the hickeys not having to dress and undress in a van packed with people. But even the visible marks higher up on his neck he couldn't hide, Frank didn't mind looking like whitetrash. Those fun bruises were from Brian, something physically there that Frank could imagine Brian doing to mark him as his.

"This is not about Lynn!" Frank yelled. He should have just let Chelsea believe it. It would have been a good cover.  He could have successfully kept his secret just the one more day he needed, but Chelsea smashed a hole in the dam.  He closed his eyes after he snapped and let his head rest back against the sofa cushion as he exhaled a calming breath. "Sorry," he sighed. "God, it's so stupid, but fuck, I like someone, okay." Frank blurted. "I like someone and I'm planning on telling them but I'm so fucking afraid they don't like me back like that and I'll just fuck everything up. See?"  Frank finally looked to her with a pathetic expression.  "Really fucking stupid."

A smile tugged at Chelsea's lips, her demeanor of worry changing almost instantly to one that was a little excited.  "I knew this would happen.  Of course you were gonna fall for that girl you're sneaking around with.  You lasted a lot longer than I thought, but I freakin' _knew_.  You're you, Frank.  Sex and emotions, they're not separate for you. I mean, I was glad you're having fun and all, but you are no lost cause like Brian. It was only a matter of time."

"Who says Brian's a lost cause?" Frank couldn't help but say.  "Maybe he just hasn't found the right person yet.  Maybe he has and just doesn't know it."

Chelsea shot him an odd look before shaking her head.  "Don't try to change the subject to someone else.  And geesh, you've been getting this messed up over worrying what reaction you're going to get from a girl who keeps you this well marked as her territory," Chelsea moved over to poke at the dark love bite on Frank's neck nestled between a couple older ones that were yellow and fading.

Frank swallowed down roughly. He was going to do it.  He was going to admit it to her.  Well, vaguely anyway, at least for now.  He supposed the first step would be to clear up the fact that this was over a guy, not a girl.  And suddenly, Frank felt very confused and a little embarrassed to go forward. He wasn't ashamed for liking Brian, for liking a man; but at the same time having to talk about the situation felt weird because Brian was a man. All this was still too new maybe? And this thing with Brian had always been kept private. Frank didn't know how to go about talking about something kept so guardedly secret. Did he have to 'come out' first? The thought made Frank want to laugh. Having to announce you were gay or bi made about as much sense to Frank as making a big deal confession about being straight. And the kid still really wasn't sure what to label himself. But if it wasn't really a big deal, then he wouldn't make a big deal about it.

"Well, the thing about Miss Hover is that, well, um, _he_ isn't really into relationships."  A silly way to finally admit things, and it seemed fitting. Frank looked to his sister with a hint of a half-cheeky smile on his face, waiting for her reaction.

"He...." Chelsea echoed back.  "Oh." It was said in a quiet shock. She just stared back at Frank for a few drawn out seconds, the gears in her brain apparently whirling. "Oh." This time with mirth as a slow smile spread across her face, accompanied with a small giggle. The smile turned soft, and yet another "Oh" left her lips; this one full of understanding. "You're not all afraid of what anyone's gonna think, are you? You know none of the people that love you care about that shit."

Frank smiled. God, he loved his sister. "No, I don't think so. It's just, weird I guess to finally say it." 

"So what then, Lynn made you give up on the whole female race?  We're not all bad."

"Shut the fuck up," Frank laughed.

"Sorry! It had to be said," Chelsea grinned back. "So I need details," she gushed, merrily basking in the fact that her brother found a new love interest. "What's his name? What does he do? Is he cute? When do I get to meet him?"

"Jesus, calm down.  That stuff doesn't really matter right now 'cause were not exactly dating and might not ever."

"But you _might_.  So I do in fact need to know about him to bless you with my sisterly approval before you nab him as your boyfriend. _Boyfriend_ ," Chelsea giggled with a grin.  "This is too cute."

Frank groaned and smashed his face down into his pillow in annoyance, halfheartedly thinking he would have preferred his sister react with disgust than be ridiculously giddy.  "Stop being so happy," he looked back to her.  "This whole thing is such a lost cause."

"Well, you're planning on legitimately asking him out, aren't you? So you must feel like there's a chance that he likes you."

"I don't know," Frank shrugged helplessly with a crooked smile. "I like to think so, but like I said fucking 'let's hold hands and skip through the tulips' is not his thing. I could like ruin the friendship, you know? This sucks." Frank groaned again.  "Man, I'm second guessing myself more.  I should have just told him before I came back home.  We were alone and everything, there was no real reason to put it off except me being a scared fucking idiot."

"Well, I- Wait," Chelsea pursed her lips together in thought, "you said you were going to Brian's to help him with a busted amp. For real? You're using that idiot for a cover story for your little love affair?" she teased.

Frank showed her a guilty smile, though she didn't know the real reason for it. He had told her the truth earlier. There was a small practice amp working a little wonky, and Frank did go over and he would have tried to fix it if Brian hadn't been so wonderfully distracting. The look on Frank's face turned serious. He could use this little opening to come clean all the way. He was going crazy carrying this secret after all, and he really didn't like lying to his sister.

" _I was at Brian's.._ " he stated slowly and purposefully, hoping Chelsea would get the hint so he wouldn't have to literally state out loud to her that Brian was the one he's been casually hooking up with.

A sort of an unsure suspicious expression slowly crept over Chelsea's face. "You, I just, nooo..." she drawled with a laugh. "Stop messing with me."

Frank sighed. If she was going to make him do this the hard way, then so be it. She kinda deserved it actually, what with all the overheard sex coming from her and Zacky's bedroom while he innocently tries to sleep on the couch. "You wanted details, Chels? Well here you go. His name is Brian Haner Jr. I'm pretty sure you've already met. I think he's ridiculously hot. And how about he just made me come two times within a five minute span. I didn't think that was biologically possible; but holy fuck, it happened and I almost died and it was amazing."

"You idiot!" Chelsea smacked him repeatedly at his shoulder.

"Stop it!" Frank held out his pillow as a makeshift shield.

"Of all the fucking people in the world.." she groaned, rubbing her hands down her face.

Frank lowered his pillow hesitantly. "I kinda thought you'd be less than pleased, but come on Chels, he's your friend."

"And Brian _is_ an awesome friend, but holy shit Frank he's not someone you let yourself get all entangled with like that. When did all this start? Do I even wanna know?"

"Really not that far off from when I first moved here."

"Oh my god," she groaned again, holding her hands at her head in a disbelieving manner. "He's touched you. He, he... Holy fuck, he made those marks on you. I'm gonna kill him. _I am going to kill him._ What the fuck did he do to manipulate you into this.?"

Frank winced.  This was not the reaction he was hoping for, though it kind of was the one that he felt in his gut would happen.  Chelsea definitely could be insanely overprotective.  "Fuck, just calm down. He didn't do anything except be fucking hot and shit. I'm not a child.  I knew what I was doing, just maybe not why.  I'm sorry it's so upsetting, but I really like him, Chels."

Chelsea sighed, and Frank could thankfully tell it was one that meant her mother grizzly wrath was beginning to wain. "You're sure about this?  You're sure this just isn't a case of 'my sister has a guitarist from Avenged Sevenfold, so I want one too'?"

Frank let out a quiet huff of a laugh at Chelsea's comically over the top hopeful face.

"I didn't mean for this to happen.  I didn't like him right away or anything, but I don't know, things changed." Frank looked down as he went on, spilling it all out. "He's all that I think about. How fun he is to be around. How he's stood up for me. How funny he is. How I can really just be myself around him. How he's that good kind of mean if that makes any sense. And he's just so passionate and talented at what he does. I want to be able to say that's mine. I want him to wanna say the same about me."

Chelsea showed her brother a soft sad smile. "You are head over heels, aren't you?"

"Basically," Frank mirrored her smile. "I know he's not perfect —I mean, there's that being a man slut problem— but I'm so far gone."

Chelsea twirled a finger around a lock of her hair absently as she remained thoughtful and quiet for a moment before she spoke again. "Well, baby brother, the only thing you can do is tell him.  That's the only thing that's gonna stop this from eating you alive.  And if it doesn't work out the way you hope, I'll kick him in the nuts and be right here with two tubs of ice cream and we can talk about how much of an ass he is." Her smile was warm and empathetic, and Frank couldn't help but smile back and feel his spirits lighten just a little.

"Even if things miraculously go the way I want, I'll definitely still be down for the ice cream and talking about how much of an ass he is."

"Either way you got this, Squish."  She reached over to give the top of his hand a loving squeeze.

"So, does this mean I have your sisterly approval?" Frank asked cheekily.

"Lord help me, I guess it does," she chuckled. "I guess when it comes down to it that shithead is a good guy.  I don't know how great your chances are with him, but I do know you need to tell him."

"I will."

"I'm talking like right now.  While you're in this 'feelings sharing' zone.  You and I both know if you wait you're going to turn into a big hesitant mess."

"No I won't," Frank argued, though he did acknowledge the truth in her words.

"Frank, you can't-" Her cellphone chimed, and she snatched it from the coffee table, giving the screen a quick glance.  "Zack's waiting outside for me.  I need to go before we lose the reservation, but you listen here, you better march your ass back over to Brian's place and get this all out while you can."

"I will. Tomorrow."

"You're an idiot."

"I know," he sighed watching her hurriedly pull on her sneakers. "Listen, don't tell Zack. Or like, anyone, please."  Frank knew he didn't have to say it, but better safe than sorry.

"Of course.  It's not anything of mine to tell." Chelsea stood and looked down to her brother warmly. "You gonna be okay?  There's cookie dough ice cream in the freezer."

Frank rolled his eyes, holding in a chuckle. "Get out."

"Going!" She smiled, grabbing her purse.  "But really, do yourself a favor and get it over with," she called over her shoulder as she hurried to the door. "Love you, Squish. You can do it."

Frank hugged his pillow to his chest as he listened to Chelsea leave out the door.  He supposed he felt a little bit better finally revealing his secret to his sister, but his dilemma still hung heavy on his heart. He was still pretty wound up thinking of the possible disastrous outcomes when it came time to tell Brian.  Frank knew the anxious thoughts were only going to get worse the longer he drew it out. Chelsea was right, he needed to get it over with.  Do it now.  But Frank's fears made him want to stick with his plan.

Tomorrow.

Frank grabbed the TV remote.  He looked back and forth from the paused program on the screen to his guitar case propped up against the wall.  Frank wasn't sure if he wanted to try to distract himself from his thoughts of Brian or to vent them out even more to feel better.  Before spilling his guts to his sister, Frank did have at least one outlet.  One angsty as fuck outlet.

Frank retrieved his acoustic guitar from the case and brought it back with him to the sofa.  He held it in his lap and ran his hand over its curves with a slight hint of a smile.  Thankfully he was able to bring it from his parents' house when the band passed through on tour. It was old and battered, but could still play like a dream. It was kind of a quirky family heirloom of sorts. No way it would ever be replaced by something new until the thing fell apart beyond repair. Frank sat crossed-legged on the middle of the sofa and absently picked at each string until he found himself playing the melody of a song he wrote.

The tune was soft, but a quiet kind of powerful. He played it through one time with a couple of slip ups; the song was still very new. Frank went ahead and began playing it again. At the start only the intricate melody he was creating filled the room, but this time he was intent on singing. Singing those sad hopeless words that he had penned from his sad hopeless heart those two weeks ago. He was in the zone, concentrating on the movement of this fingers, and he slipped his eyes closed when it came time for the words to leave his lips. He knew he didn't have the best singing voice in the world, but what came out of his mouth was pure and full of emotion.

 **I got my bags all packed and I'm ready to go**  
**I'm standing outside of your figurative door**  
**I'm ready for the flight or to fall off a cliff**  
**But if it's alright with you I'd rather not miss out on us**  
**Cause your face is all I need to stay sane**  
**I've spent my life getting in my own way**  
**So I could use something good,**  
**I really need this to work out**  
**Of course the way things have gone it might be smarter to just cash out**

 **But you're on my mind**  
**And the things that you say hurt me most of the time**  
**But I'm sinking fast so it's alright**

 **I've tied my stomach in knots and I'm ready to know**  
**I'll put it on the line if you'd just give it a go**  
**Cause I want to be the only one to hold you so close and so tight**  
**And if it's cool with you I'd really love to spend the night**  
**You say you never wanna be saved**  
**Well that's okay cause I wouldn't know how**  
**Just know that the best that I'll ever be**  
**Is whatever you make me and wherever you** **are**

 **You're on my mind**  
**And the things that you say hurt me most of the time**  
**But I'm on your side,**  
**Cause I know I'm not easy to deal with sometimes**  
**But I'm sinking fast so it's** **alright**

 **All we wanted was what we were**  
**And what we were was young and naive**  
**I found my place in this world**  
**It's in your wake, in your wake, in your** **wake**

 **You're on my mind**  
**And the things that you say hurt me most of the time**  
**But I'm on your side**  
**Cause I know I'm not easy to deal with sometimes**  
**But once in a while I wish you would tell me if you even care**  
**Cause I'm sinking fast, I'm sinking fast**  
**I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you**  
**I need you to know that I'm alright**

Frank's fingers and pick moved over the strings for another short moment, ending the song with the same hauntingly beautiful melody it started with. And with one last down stroke it was over. Frank tucked the pick away back between the strings. He let out a deep sigh, but it wasn't a distressing one. He poured everything out that he needed to, and his heart felt a little less heavy. Music could do wonders.

Frank stood from the sofa intent on going to place his guitar away.   He felt better so now he could just lazily distract himself with some Netflix binging.  And maybe that cookie dough ice cream wasn't really a bad idea after all. Frank only made it three steps toward the case when he heard a voice from somewhere behind him speak.

"Do I get an encore?"

It was Brian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics used in this chapter by Frank Iero :)


	9. Cruel Infatuation

That heart that had been feeling better suddenly stopped in Frank's chest when he heard the familiar voice. The guitar slipped from his one-handed grip and hit the carpeted floor with a thud and a whining echo of the strings.

What the fuck was Brian suddenly doing in his apartment? Why didn't he hear Brian at the door? Why didn't Chelsea lock the door? Why hadn't he made sure the door was locked? Fuck that fucking door.

Frank's chest was tight, and it was a fight to keep his breathing even. This was much more than his anxiety of singing in front of people. That part didn't matter to Frank. He was pretty sure if it had been any other song in the world he wouldn't have given a shit about singing in front of Brian. But this, this was different. This was a song very much inspired by the man, maybe even obviously so. And sure, Frank was planning on coming clean to his friend, but this was not the time or the place.  This was not the plan.  Frank was absolutely terrified Brian would know. How much of it had Brian heard?

Frank was paralyzed in panic and could only watch as Brian crossed the room and picked the guitar up from the floor. He held it out to Frank with an amused look on his face.

"You dropped this."

Frank took it back slowly, still very shocked, very worry, and very confused. "What are you doing here?" Frank blurted out. Not the best greeting or the kindest thing to say, but it was the question on Frank's mind.

A confused look of his own appeared on Brian's face. "Chels said you needed me to come over to help you fix something?" He spoke as if it were something Frank should know.  "The text said to get over here ASAP.  So what's falling apart?"

_Chelsea.  That meddling bitch._

Okay, so maybe it was with the best interests at heart that she concocted this little scheme to put him and Brian in the same room together.  To give Frank the little push he probably (most definitely) needed to go through with getting his confession out.  To throw the opportunity in his lap for him so he didn't have to keep this insanity-driving secret any longer than he had to. But god dammit, Frank was not prepared to truly face Brian's reaction.

"I, uh, everything's fine," Frank shrugged, unable for the life of him to think up some excuse.  The only thing in need of fixing was how his stupid heart was working in his chest, but Frank sure as fuck wasn't saying any of that. "I don't know what her angle is, dude."

"So, just a 'slightly inconvenience Haner' prank?" The man didn't sound all that sure, raising his brows. "You're sure everything's good?"

"Yeah," Frank shrugged again and leaned the guitar against the wall.  He hoped Brian was buying the clueless act and hoping most of all that no mention of the song he got caught singing would be brought up.

"If you say so, Tink."  Brian didn't look completely convinced, but regardless he dropped the issue.  "Should I leave then?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "At least I got to see a little show. You've got a pretty little voice," he smiled playfully.

A self-conscious smile spread across Frank's face, "Shut up.  I definitely do not.  I suck and I know it."

"No," Brian went ahead and plopped down on the middle of the sofa.  "I mean sure, it wasn't what people would call a 'conventional' good voice, but it was like pure, man.  I dig it."

"Um, thanks," Frank bit his lip, the smile still there as he sunk down into the cushioned chair kitty-corner to the sofa.  Brian's compliments always had a way of turning him into an awkwardly happy puddle.

"Was that a cover of something you were playing?  Way different than our violent jam sessions."

"No," Frank answered, hiding his nerves.

Sure the conversation had been hovering around the song.  Frank could handle the talk about his singing voice, but hoped it wouldn't dive in any deeper.  What if Brian wanted to discuss the lyrics? Frank didn't want Brian to figure this out right now, but he couldn't bring himself to lie about the song not being his.

"It's something I wrote."

Brian was quiet for a few drawn out seconds, absently settling his gaze over on the guitar against the wall.  And in that time Frank tried to will his heart to stop beating liking a maniac.  This could be it.  Brian could be connecting the dots.

"Well, I don't know much about being in love," Brian finally spoke looking back to Frank, "but that song was pretty fucking raw, dude."

"Thanks."

Frank wasn't sure how to feel at the moment:  Relieved that Brian was still oblivious or disappointed that the guy hadn't figured it out.  This was so stupid that Frank was being so torn in two over what needed to be done.  He needed to tell Brian.  It was the only way the 'what-if' inner turmoil would end.  Frank needed to take a shot.  Needed to come clean to give himself a chance at something that could end up beautiful no matter how slim that chance was.  But that dueling side of him was being a scared little child.  And that berating inner voice was suddenly back with a vengeance.

A pathetic shit.  A spineless bastard.  The power to put an end to all the guessing and wishing, but just sitting scared and quiet.  Brian was talking, but it was lost to Frank's ears.  He was trying to put up a mental fight.  Trying to find a sliver of reason why he couldn't go through with this right now that didn't come down to him just being a yellow-bellied gutless fuck.

_You don't deserve him!  Why would he ever want to be with a fucking coward like you!_

And maybe he had been a coward.  Too cautious.  Too pessimistic to take a chance.

"Come on Tink, talk to me."  Brian was sitting on the side of the sofa close to Frank now, leaning in with concern.  "Is something wrong?"

Frank was snapped out of his daze by Brian's worried soaked words.  And with it snapped out of his self-loathing attack as well.   Sure, getting nervous and being anxious was a small part of who he was, but Frank Iero was no fucking coward.  Not today.  Not right now.

"I love you."

Those words flew out of Frank's throat before he had time to think.  And when he processed exactly what he said, a quietly cursed "shit" and "fuck" promptly followed.  Frank had practiced a few times in his head different things he would say to Brian to finally let him know his feelings had changed, but goddamn 'I love you' was never remotely called into question.  Frank's heart had stopped.  He didn't mean to say that.  This all happened so wrong, and he barely let himself register the shocked look on Brian's face before Frank averted his gaze downward.

"Shit. I didn't, I..." The words stumbled out. Frank was momentarily at a lost on how to backpedal this slip up.   He was too focused on how he messed up.  Those words to a person who avoided relationships and clinginess; it was probably the worse opening line that could have shot out of Frank's mouth.

"Frank," Brian spoke his name slowly.

Frank hated how it sounded.  Calm and belittling.  It made Frank feel like a stupid little kid.  And just the fact that Brian called him 'Frank' was troubling enough.  Brian rarely ever called him by his real name.  That was reserved for playful angry yelling, or if shit got serious.

"Frankie," Brian said again.  This time with a caring tone, but one peppered with uncertainty.  That tone you use when you don't want to hurt someone's feelings but aren't sure how to go about it.

"Don't," Frank sighed. He figured Brian was about to give him a big cushiony letdown speech that would end up being entirely condescending. Frank wasn't going to give him a chance. "I didn't mean that," he said quietly, managing to bring his eyes to meet the man's. "I just, I got all worked up in my head and something stupid came out. I don't love you."

Brian remained quiet, and Frank looked down again.  He took a breath.  It was time to properly come clean. 

"I don't love you," Frank said again, keeping his gaze down and letting a hand anxiously scratch at the nape of his neck. "But, but I do really like you a whole lot fucking more than I know I should." This time with an admission leaving his throat Frank thankfully felt some relief mix in with his wild nerves. A weight lifted from his chest, and though he was pretty sure he just fucked up a friendship, Frank was able to look Brian in the eye again. "I like to think that I hid it from you, but fuck," Frank couldn't help the sad short laugh that left him as his brain played out snippets of moments they shared together. "You must have known I felt something. God," another laugh, "how obvious am I?"

Brian was the one to look away now. He uncharacteristically chewed at his lip showing his discomfort or nervousness. Maybe a little of both. "Honestly?  I wouldn't let myself see it for a while, but pretty fuckin' obvious.  But you never said anything, so I guess I let myself pretend I was imagining it.  And that song you were singing," Brian looked up to him then, "it was about me, wasn't it? I knew in my gut, and it took everything I had to put on an act."

"You knew, " Frank mused helplessly.  "But you don't know what you've done to me. What you do to me."

Frank looked down to his fidgeting hands in his lap. He was sure he was putting Brian in a very uncomfortable position, but Frank couldn't find it in himself to care.  This is what needed to happen.  Everything needed to spill out so Frank could move past it all.

"Right from the get go of just becoming your friend I fucking gave myself to you," Frank carried on.  "I don't do that. That was a big deal. I could never allow meaningless sex, but I don't think deep down it ever really was meaningless to me.  I looked back and even from the beginning, that first time you kissed me, you made me feel butterflies. And then it got worse, err better.  Like the wings on those bitches started turning into fire. I think my body and my guts knew you were special before my stupid brain could understand it." Frank took a deep sad breath. "I'm sorry it didn't stay stupid. I know I've just made things really really weird."

And now with the silence that engulfed them, Frank just wanted to disappear.  He was probably going to have to quit working with the band.  Maybe moving back to Jersey wouldn't be so bad.

"You know how I operate, Frank."

"I know," Frank sighed. Neither man could look at the other. "I don't expect you to change for me. I really hoped you could, but don't worry I'm not gonna stay stuck on this. I know I don't mean anything to you.  I know I'm not special."

"Don't talk like that about yourself," Brian frowned. "You're my friend, of course you mean something.  Of course you're special."

"But not enough," Frank finally looked up to Brian with a crooked frown on his face.  "You became an awesome friend, and I know you care,  but I know what I am to you, Brian.  Just a very convenient fuckbuddy." The 'woe is me' was oozing out, but Frank didn't care. This admitting feelings and frustrations thing was both miserable and cathartic. Frank needed to get everything out. "That's all you wanted from the beginning and all you'll ever want. God, I'm such an fucking idiot."

"Jesus, Frank, no." Brian looked to the boy earnestly. "I mean, obviously I was attracted to you and wanted in your pants, but you turned out... I just," Brian paused, looking away thoughtfully for moment. An inner battle was playing out on his face, and it ended with a defeated look. "You are not just some fuckbuddy.  I'll admit you were supposed to be just another notch at first. And become a friend, sure, but at the root of it you were a conquest at the start. And I admit that now feeling sick with myself. You really shouldn't bother wanting to be special for me.  I'm a scumbag.  I'm a scumbag even if I couldn't bring myself to be a full blown piece of shit with you.  Like, I was patient.  I'm never patient.  But then I finally got you, and you became the most satisfying victory.  I don't usually keep at it with the same person, definitely not for as long as we have, but it never gets old. What I can do you. What you can do to me.  You're more than just a fuckbuddy," he said again, more pointedly this time.  "You know what you are to me? You're fucking terrifying."

"What do you mean?" Frank managed to ask.  He had listened intently to his friend and was unsure how to feel.  There were too many thoughts whirling in his head.

"It was subtle at first," Brian looked away.  "Little things here and there.  But more and more you give me these knots in my gut where I couldn't... Where I can't bring myself to be a total unfeeling bastard when it comes to you. I've been doing my best to keep myself detached as per fucking usual. But fuck, Tink," Brian finally looked at him, the look in his eyes a little lost, "it's been getting very hard."

Frank stared unblinking at Brian as the man spoke. His mouth hung just slightly agape as he drank in the words. Frank couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You are terrifying me because you, this _thing_ between us might actually mean something. I've been letting you get away with a lot of shit that would normally make me cut things off. But I just..." Brian trailed off raising his hand and letting his fingers gently brush down the side of Frank's face.

Frank would have melted into that touch, but Brian quickly retracted his hand away not letting his moment of weakness last long.  Frank's mind was racing. This was Brian admitting that he liked him? Dear god it was, and for an instant it made a happiness in Frank rise. Doubt and reasoning quickly sliced through it though.  Maybe Frank was wrong, but it sure as fuck sounded like Brian didn't want to like him.  Like the guy was kind of sick with himself that he felt that way.

"Would it be better if I wasn't around you anymore?" Frank felt like he was punching himself in his own gut for voicing that question. "Should I quit now before you have to fire me?"

"No," Brian took Frank's hand in his and squeezed it gently. "The last thing I could ever want is to not see you."

The action and words made a small smile curl at Frank's lips. "So I like you, and you like me." That smile turned sad. "But that's not enough, is it?"

Brian let his hand slide away from Frank's. "It's not that. I just, I don't think I can be what you want. You're young and-"

"I'm not a fucking child," Frank couldn't help but interject a little angry.  "I'm gonna be nineteen in a few weeks.  You're only twenty-one.  It's not like you're that much _older_ and _wiser_ than me.  I know what I'm feeling.  I know it's real.  And I know what I want."

"I know, I'm sorry." Brian sighed. "I guess what I mean is you're emotional, and I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I've gotten to know you Frank. You're a fucking nut and fun and those times where you get all shy and shit," Brian couldn't help the small breathy chuckle that left his lips, "it drives me crazy in the best possible way. And you've got this brave reckless something about you too. You throw yourself into things with so much fucking heart and passion. It makes you a strong person, but at the same time it sets you up to be so fucking fragile."

Frank wanted to argue that last point, but he kept his mouth shut. Brian was dead on.

"I've never been in a relationship before," Brian went on helplessly. "Ever. And you're different, and I don't know how to act here. I don't wanna fuck things up. But this scares the shit out of me. Thinking it could actually be something."

Frank kept his eyes on Brian, frowning more. "Us being something, is that so bad?"

"It's not bad at all. I just don't wanna fuck it up. I don't want to hurt you. I'm scared I will and that's the last thing I want," Brian looked up at him, lifting a hand to Frank's cheek, brushing his thumb over the cheekbone softly. "You gotta understand I really really like you. And I have never had this feeling before, but I don't know how to do this.  You're too important.  I just, I don't think it would work."

This was an all new kind of torture. A mutual infatuation that wasn't even being given a chance. Frank didn't even have the time to feel any joy over Brian actually saying the words that he liked him. His gut had been punched far too quickly with rejection.

"If, if that's what you think," Frank said quietly, his fingers absently ghosting over his face where Brian's had been just seconds ago. 

He could feel a heaviness at the back of his eyes warning him that tears were going to swell if he didn't get his shit together.  Frank took a deep clearing breath.  He was not going to fucking cry in front of Brian.  He was not going to let himself cry over this period.

"I don't know, I think maybe we could be fucking awesome together," Frank went on calmly.  "But I'm not fucking delusional either. I know you and me could be quite the recipe for disaster too. But if I had to go down in a fucking fiery blaze of glory, I'd want it to be over of you. Because at least it would mean for a time, you and I, shit was perfect."

If any tiny bit of hope had been left in Frank, it was beginning to vanish with Brian's silence.

"But right, um," Frank spoke up again to break up the awkward quiet, "I won't bug you about this again.  I think you're an idiot, but I'm not gonna beg you for a chance.  Just, if this is really never gonna happen, and you are one hundred percent sure of that, please just tell me so I can just start letting that sink in and get the fuck past it. I've already done so much angsty fucking pining over you, it's kinda pathetic." He chuckled at himself humorlessly. "Just help me stop now if it's all just fucking pointless. And please tell me that I haven't fucked things up too weird, and we're still friends, yeah?"

"We'll always be friends, that I'm sure of." Brian smiled sadly, "I'm sorry it can't be more. I do care about you, Frank."

Frank nodded in a sort of graceful acceptance of defeat. "I don't know if this goes without saying, but I can't fool around with you anymore. Not if you don't want me to drive myself insane."

"Of course. That's fine. We'll do what we have to do to find a new normal, hmm?"

"I guess so."

The air hung thick with an uncomfortable tension. Frank hoped to god he could manage being friends with the man. He hoped it wouldn't be too hard. Frank didn't believe or maybe _wouldn't_ believe he was full blown in love with Brian, but he knew what he did feel was powerful. And that kind of powerful was going to be hard to get over.

"I should probably head out," Brian rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly as he slowly stood. "We'll be fine. I'm sure of it. Sunday's a new day. I'll see you then."

"Yeah, see you, Brian," Frank nodded his goodbye.

Brian was out the door, and immediately Frank's eyes prickled and swelled with tears.  But he didn't let them fall.  Frank Iero was not going to cry.  He was a miserable rejected mess, but he wasn't going to cry.  Frank was actually glad this talk finally happened.  It was something that _had_ to happen.  It was a good thing, even if it didn't play out the way Frank had hoped it would.  It was over and done with.  Frank had his answer.  A painful answer, yes; but an answer nonetheless.  He was going to get over Brian.  Frank would find a way.  
  


 


	10. The Pirate and the Crow

The past few weeks had been hard, but Frank could laugh and live life and still enjoy it. Going off on another tour just about a week from Rejection Day kind of made this 'get over feelings' thing both harder and a little easier at the same time. Him and Brian being thrown together so soon after that disastrous talk probably not the greatest thing to happen to two people trying to ease their way into a friendship that wouldn't be clouded with sadness or awkwardness. But touring was also Frank's element. A happy distraction where he was kept busy with friends and with work he loved. It also helped that it was a new kind of adventure to enjoy.

This was the maiden tour with the new record label; and with it, it was good riddance van, and hello tour bus. This was a whole different experience. A damn well exciting one, and though there was sadness clinging to Frank's heart, he was still an excited little shit every day. So at the very least the mess with Brian didn't consume him. It was more like a misery kept on the back burner.

Admittedly, things were a little off. But they were both good at playing pretend, almost as if the "I like you" debacle hadn't happened. Though they weren't 100% themselves around each other either. Like in the form of Brian not being a walking-talking flirt canon constantly firing at Frank, and Frank himself avoiding hanging around too close to the man. It was enough suspicion for Matt to question if everything was okay between the two, but Frank brushed it off in his usual cute awkward manner that everything was cool. That he just asked Brian to tone it down a little so he could have a break from blushing like an idiot for a while. It was a lie that was believed —at least it seemed that way to Frank.

So life went on. Pretending, but still friends. Still friends, but still in desperate need of getting over feelings.

Frank just wanted to be done with the sad mental funk that played in the background and occasionally spiked. Especially when Brian returned back to business as usual: making passes at fucking everyone. Though it was becoming less of a sad feeling for Frank and more an angry one. Maybe even a blood boiling one. Brian said he really liked him after all, said he cared, said Frank was important. But just like that his friend could ignore it. _Fuck Brian._

So maybe Frank really was getting over the sad stage of rejection, but entering the angry one. If Brian could have fun like that, why the fuck shouldn't Frank? Frank was determined to, and maybe his growing spiteful side hoped Brian would see and choke on it a little. Tonight was a night to celebrate after all. It was Halloween _and_ Frank's birthday. Nothing was going to ruin his favorite day of the year. The show that night was off the chain. It was that magic something about Halloween that made the energy inside of people fire up more than usual, and possibly also that fact that Avenged Sevenfold could put on a fucking goddamn good show. His friends had worked out where they were to party that evening, because again, Halloween and their baby roadie's birthday. Merely getting blitz on the bus in celebration wasn't going to cut it tonight. There needed to be a high energy atmosphere, costumes, and more liquor and beer than the bus could hold.  The Black Cherry club was more than meeting the requirements.

Frank was very content where he was at the moment: out on the dance floor dressed like a pirate. And not some cheesy store bought crap. No, Halloween costumes were serious business. Back before the tour even started Frank had taken a whole day to meticulously search through six different thrift stores to piece together his getup as dirty authentic pirate as he could. The poofy women's shirt worked quite nicely. And it along with the pants, the vest, the waist scarves and bandana, were properly rubbed against gritty asphalt, stained with dirt, and ripped. Frank's devotion to Halloween costumery was either adorably quirky or insane. Whichever.

That didn't matter anyway. Frank looked _good_ , he was hammered as fuck, and was having some goddamn fun. And the Sexy Alice in Wonderland and Queen Cleopatra he was dancing sandwiched between and happily ping-pong making out with were a big cause of the good time. DrunkFrank SkankMouth McFuckInhibitions had long taken over.

It hadn't exactly computed in Frank's brain when he was being led off by the equally drunk Cleopatra into the women's bathroom that he was being led off to have sex in the women's bathroom. And whether he was drunk enough or not for that to happen Frank didn't get to find out because any sort of bathroom birthday sexual fun was squashed in the form of him throwing up on his now ex-makeout friend. He had been promptly slapped across the face and left to throw up a bit more in the bathroom sink. But that didn't put any sort of damper on the evening. It left Frank with a second wind and a hilarious story he knew he had to tell Johnny and Dan.

Frank popped a stick of gum in his mouth and did a double thumbs up point at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, complete with a click of his teeth and a wink of one of his eyes rimmed with a smokey ring of eyeliner. His drunken self had no problem appreciating how hot of a scurvy dog he was. He merrily waltz on out of the ladies' room wondering if he'd be able to find that Alice chick again, but thoughts of her flew out the window as he almost immediately walked into another club patron. With a drunk mind already off balance the little bump sent Frank staggering back a few paces, but he did miraculously manage not to fall back on his ass.

"Sorry dude," Frank looked to the taller man in some lame pharaoh costume.

"Listen you shit stain, think you might know something about my girl freaking out about some dumbfuck pirate that busted in the girls' room and threw up on her costume?"

"Shit." Frank's brain whirled. "She's your girlfriend? I didn't know she was anybody's girlfriend," the inebriated ramble began to start, complete with over the top hand gestures. "I mean, I probably still would have puked on her, like she was right there and everything. But like, I definitely wouldn't have made out with her. Like definitely not."

"You what?!"

Frank suddenly found himself shoved up against the wall next to the bathroom door courtesy of a bigger and stronger drunk angry boyfriend, as well as thanks to the help of Frank's own stupid drunk mouth in the first place.

"I said I WOULDN'T have!" Frank argued back sort of stubbornly. "She totally started it, man. I thought I was good to go. Like, I'm not saying you're dating a ho bag. I'm just–"

"You're done, you little prick!"

One strong arm held Frank against the wall, while the other wound back to deliver a punch. So this was it. Pharaoh versus pirate. Frank's chances didn't seem all that good. What with the height difference and everything. Frank had time to squeeze his eyes shut, and then there was the faint sound of a punch almost completely swallowed up by the club's pounding music. It was the distinct slapping thud of a fist meeting a face, but Frank's face remained suspiciously untouched. And more then that, the grip the man had on his shoulder fell away.

Frank peeled his eyes open and took in the scene in front of him. That angry Egyptian king was laid out flat on the floor and next to him stood someone dressed as Eric Draven or more aptly named, The Crow. Black leather clad and with that unmistakable black and white face makeup slightly smudged with sweat, he shook out his hand and fingers like he had punched something too hard. Like the face of a douchbag fake pharaoh to be precise. That resurrected rock star was none other than Brian, and Frank looked to him with wide eyes of appreciation and amazement.

"Shit, Bri! You knocked that fuckbag out!"

"Someone had too, squirt. You okay?" Brian looked Frank up and down. "What did you do?" He asked with a hint of a laugh in his voice.

"I didn't do anything!" Frank insisted genuinely. "He's just mad that his–"

Frank cut himself off, noticing that 'knocked out pharaoh' wasn't so knocked out after all but back on his feet when Frank glanced to him. The guy shoved an unknowing Brian violently to the floor from behind and swung hard at Frank. Frank was only able to move his face enough so the blow didn't connect with the full force behind it. The punch was still hard, landing below Frank's left eye —there was definitely going to be a bruise there later.  It made Frank swallow the gum down in his mouth, but luckily he didn't feel the true pain of it thanks to all the alcohol making his face numb.

It was a swift second of feeling dazed, but then the anger erupted. Frank Iero wasn't going to relive playing the part of poor little high school victim. Plus, and maybe even more importantly so, the guy pushed Brian down.  Nobody was going to attack his friends and get away with it.  Especially not Brian.  And especially not when it was Frank himself that felt like he was the only one who deserved to be beating Brian up in a fit of a lost temper.  Frank pushed away from the wall, and then it was a swift knee striking right between the pharaoh's legs, making him promptly fall down to his own knees.  A lovely prone position Frank took advantage of making his fist smash squarely into the guy's nose.

Always go for the nose.  As hard as you fucking can.  It _hurt_ and was the easiest to make bleed.  And if you make them bleed then it's a good chance they'll think you're one tough motherfucker and leave you alone.  It was a sketchy life lesson pep talk from his dad when Frank was younger on how to deal with bullies.  It was one that only ever worked on one person, but it did come in handy when needing to fight back.  Frank may have been beaten up a lot in high school, but he never went down without a fight.  Losing was not an option right now though.  Frank was drunk and riled up.  This guy dared to start shit, but Frank was sure as fuck going to end it.

Frank delivered another blow while the man was busy cupping his hands around his nose, this time getting the guy on the side of the face.  Frank yelled a sort of battle cry as his knuckles made impact and the pharaoh was laid out flat for the second time

"Holy fuck, Tink!" Brian had his turn yelling in amazement.  He was still laying on the floor, sitting up slightly, propped up at his elbows.

Brian, definitely a bit hammered as well, did this slow motion roll onto this hands and knees and crawled the few feet over to Frank and the fallen challenger.  He proceeded to none too gingerly full-hand poke at the pharaoh, getting his face right up against the fallen man's: eyes shut, nose bloody, and unmoving except for the rise and fall off his chest.

"Fuck," Brian swore again with a laugh, "he's OUT."

Frank's fists unclenched a little as he looked down at his victory.  He was about to spit on the guy to add further insult to injury, but Brian got up and grabbed Frank's arm.

"Time to get outta here." Brian spoke with a lazy sort of urgency. 

The pair had been a bit oblivious to the small crowd that had gathered around them, but Brian had at least been clear-headed enough to hear a shout for security.  Frank was a little confused at their sudden need to leave at first, but their predicament did sink through to his brain and he let Brian half drag half lead him through the sea people and out of the club before they could be caught.

It had held off all day and night, but it was raining outside now.  The kind of heavy rain that was coming down in buckets.  The two man fled from the club entrance and took cover under the awning of a neighboring boutique closed for the night.  They were decently drenched from just the twenty seconds they were exposed to the wet wrath of the weather, and under the shelter of the awning they shared a long giggling laugh over their situation.

"Shit," Brian breathed when their laughter had petered out. "I still can't believe it. You ended that guy. You! How in the fuck?"

"Bitch please, I'm from fucking New Jersey," was Frank's deadpan response.  He said it and he meant it.

Brian laughed, shaking his head in amazement.  "How is it that you get more awesome the longer I know you?"

Frank shrugged with a stupid grin of his face.  "You're more awesome.  Like I woulda had my head smashed into the wall back there if you didn't fuck up that guy first. You're like a fucking White Knight. Err, I guess Black Knight," Frank corrected giving Brian's costume a once over, "Black Leather Night. Did I tell you look good. Like really good. 'Cause you do, you know, look good. Like hot."

"You don't look so bad yourself. I wouldn't mind getting at your booty." The line was delivered suave at first, but then Brian snorted out laughter, "Get it? Booty? You're a pirate!"

The giggles spilled out of Frank's mouth.  Both of them drunk enough for that to be one of the funniest things they've ever heard.  "You're an idiot," Frank gave Brian's shoulder a poke.

"Sure, but you're stuck with me right now."

"And what are we supposed to do?" Frank glanced around his surroundings with a lopsided frown.

The dark gray of the night mixed with the orange glow of the street lamps.  It was close to one o'clock in the morning, and that coupled with the down pour left the city street pretty barren of life.  The large raindrops were loud as they impacted on the asphalt and rooftops.  The sound was soothing, but Frank still felt restless.  This was not how his birthday night was supposed to end.

"Well, we're both guilty of some arguable assault in there maybe. So whatever we do we should probably put a little more distance between us and the club."

"Are we on the lam?" Frank giggled. "Where do we go?"

"Let's just live a little." Brian grinned and promptly pulled Frank out from under the cover of the awning into the onslaught of rain.

They were running and laughing through the trafficless street, breaking off to jump in particularly huge and tempting puddles.  It was hard to tell who was more drunk.  Possibly Brian as he would call out a voice booming "WOOO!" with every puddle he splashed in.  And all that splashing and the sheets upon sheets of water that coursed down made little work of soaking them to the bone.  This 'flee from the scene of the crime' had pretty much just turned into two 'grown men' (using the words loosely) playing in the rain.

Frank was all smiles and laughter.  There were no worries, no care of where they were headed.  He felt free and jubilant.  He was with a best friend and nothing felt weird or stupid or sad or angry at the moment —not with the amount of liquor in his system and the nostalgic playtime anyway.  Frank's blissful happiness was momentarily disrupted with the sudden blinding light of a car's headlights and its angry repeated beeping.  He felt Brian grab his hand then and tug him toward the sidewalk.  The two unabashedly flipped the driver off as he slowly drove past because the nerve of that guy using the street when they more importantly had it occupied.

"Asshole," Frank narrowed his eyes at the retreating red taillights of the lone car. "Totally throwing off my good birthday vibes."

"Let's mix it up then," Brian grinned.  "Tag... you're it." And he launched himself away from Frank, cackling like a witch as he ran back down the street the way they had come.

Frank just stood there dumbfounded for a split second, looking not too far off from a drowned rat before it quickly clicked somewhere in his mind that he needed to jump into pursuit. "Not fair!" he yelled accusingly, but smiled nonetheless as he stumble-sprinted after Brian as fast as he could manage, "My legs are shorter!"

It was a sight to say the least.  Brian somehow successfully ended up jogging backwards so he could shoot Frank some smarmy looks, but he stopped suddenly, another drunken grin splaying out on his face.  Frank halted too as he watched in confusion as Brian rushed toward him.  Before he could react, his friend had reached him, ducking down so Frank could be heaved up on his shoulder.  There was this bumbling shaky spin where Frank was all arms and legs outstretched and happily yelling; and Brian was the one giggling like a girl as he finally lost his balance and toppled down with Frank onto the grass of the boulevard.  Luckily, Frank came out of  it on top and unscathed.  They shared another round of laughter as Frank propped himself up with his hands, his body atop Brian's, his head keeping the rain from falling in Brian's face.

"I know I'm fucked up and everything, but I don't think that's how tag works," Frank giggled.

"I was getting impatient," Brian remarked.  "Besides the end result is kinda nice," Brian's hands came to rest firmly at Frank's ass.  "I miss you, shortshit."

"I kinda hate you," Frank admitted with a choke of a giggle.  The thought of getting himself away from this situation before it led to a mistake didn't quite take to his brain.  "I guess I'm jealous.  Like you just seem so okay with how everything is, and I just can't get there. Yeah I hate you, but I miss you too."

"I probably deserve the hate, but I'm not okay at all.  And man, it's all stupid isn't it."

"Stupid like it's your fault," Frank took a second to use a body weight supporting hand to lightly smack the side of Brian's face. "All stupid make believe and eggshells and homesick when it's right in your fucking face. If that makes any sense."

"Not really," Brian's brow furrowed in confusion. "But maybe I'm just too fucked up. Orrr maybe I'm just too rusty with the language of the hobbit."

"I'm not a fucking hobbit," Frank shot out in a matter-of-fact huff. But God, he missed being teased.

"Whatever you say, Bilbo," Brian said defiantly with a smirk.

And before Frank could utter any response Brian had him gripped at either side of his head and pulled him in close.  Close for a kiss.  And that, _that_ Frank responded to.  Mouths puzzled together eager, wanton, and sloppy. They hadn't had any physical slip ups yet, but of course this was the first time they had been _this_ drunk and alone together.  So why not let it happen with a ridiculous bang: outside in the dark morning hours laid out on a strip of glass beside a street in the middle of a downpour.  Perfect.

They broke apart after several minutes, both completely out of breath.  Frank looked down at Brian. The man looked drowned and his makeup all watered-down to a wet smudgy shadow at this point, but he was still hot as ever as far as Frank was concerned. The 'no fooling around anymore' rule was the furthest thing from Frank's mind.  He was locked in a weighty gaze with who he wanted.  And the birthday boy was damn well going to get him. 

Miraculously, they remembered and found their way to where the tour bus was parked. They made it inside after a short argument over who had a key with them, and then Frank's giggle fit over Brian's six failed attempts of getting the key into the slot of the lock. They made it inside the dark bus, managing to get one dim light to turn on before connecting at the mouth again. They didn't bother shuffling too far inside before clothes started to be shed. Brian's coat, and Frank's vest and stubborn waist scarves left sopping in heaps on the floor. There they stayed in the kitchenette area prolonging a lovely dizzying make out session a few moments more before Brian turned Frank around and pushed him up against the small wall section of shallow cabinets.

The front of Frank's body was firmly pressed against those cabinets, and in turn Brian was pressed tightly and rubbing against his back side.  Frank's fingernails lightly clawed at the wall as Brian's lips attacked his neck, and dear lord, did it ever feel nice to have the weight of his friend against him like this again. Frank basked in the feel of Brian's mouth. It had been far too long of a respite from letting himself feel this pleasure.

"Why the fuck did we stop doing this again?" Brian murmured against the skin behind Frank's ear.

An automatic breathy "I don't know" left Frank's lips, but the question lingered and spun around in his mind as Brian's hands snaked around Frank's waist and stared undoing his pants.  Because yes, they stopped doing this on purpose. They stopped for a reason.  A small moan got stuck in Frank's throat as the bliss he had been consumed in was beginning to give way to at first a sadness, then a growing spark of anger. A dangerous kind of anger.  Drunk anger.   Frank was now jarred from his carnal enjoyment.

"Because you're a stupid fucking coward," Frank answered that question again, along with hitting Brian's hands away from pushing his pants down. "Get away from me."

Brian pulled back but only so there was just enough room for Frank to turn around and face him.  He looked down at Frank with utter confusion.  "What?  What the fuck are you going on about?"

"Get away," Frank said back angrily.

"Tink..." Brian started to chuckle, clearly not taking the kid seriously.

"I said get away from me!"

Brian listened this time, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down Frank with a confused scowl. "What the hell's the problem?"

"You don't get to touch me anymore," Frank spat, fastening his pants back up.

"Oh come on, you don't mean that."  Brian stepped up close and loosely gripped at Frank's hips.  He dipped his head down and nibbled at Frank's ear.  "I know you miss this," he spoke soft and sultry into that ear.

It made Frank shudder and made his anger waver enough to let Brian continue. 

"You have know idea how much I do," Brian went on through slow kisses down Frank's neck. "It's been hell being near you and not having you." Kiss, kiss, bite. "We could go back to how it was." Kiss, kiss. "I hate how it is now."  His mouth moved over Frank's, but it was very short-lived as his words had unfortunately sent Frank fully back into seething mode.

"No." Frank pushed Brian back a couple stumbling paces. "No," he said again as he shook his head angrily.  He glared daggers at Brian as he began his slurred heated ramble, "You don't get to be upset by this fucked up fucking mess. You don't get to. You made it, Brian. You could have had me all this time, but you're a fucking idiot piece of shit. You wouldn't even give us a chance. And for what? Fucking scared? Did you even mean that? Did you even mean it that you liked me?  You haven't seemed too bothered.  'Cause I see you, you know, with those other people.  Like am I just your favorite toy and you miss playing with me? I'm not a fucking toy!"

"Woah, woah, woah," Brian held his hands out defensively. "It's not like that!  You're not... I haven't... I'm just-"

"Save your fucking breath, Haner," Frank cut off the stammered plea. He didn't want to hear another word.  He didn't want to hear Brian's stupid voice.  Even if the truth was he was still helplessly enamored by the man, Frank was seeing red from the pent up frustration and bitterness bubbling out, and the last thing he wanted at the moment was to deal with Brian any longer. "This never happens again.  You hear me?"

"Frank..." Brian stepped up to him again, grabbing Frank at the shoulders imploringly. 

"Don't fucking touch me!" Frank knocked Brian's arms away.  "Get away!"

Brian didn't listen.  Both were stubborn in this state; just with Frank angry, and Brian frantically desperate.  Brian grabbed Frank yet again.  It was a gentle enough of a grip, just a pleading despairing gesture, but to Frank it might as well have been an attack.  Did he or did he not just tell Brian to step the fuck off?

"Don't. Fucking. Touch me!" There was another shoving away of arms, but this time Frank made sure to get his point across with the added use of his fist.  His fist slamming into Brian's face to be precise.

The punch made Brian stumble back and fall flat on his ass.  Brian sat there shocked and dazed for a moment, before a drunk anger of his own took over.  He scrambled to his feet and rushed at Frank, pinning him against the cabinets again but this time by gripping the kid around the throat. Frank let out a gasping choke as he desperately pulled at the hand wrapped around his neck.  And seeing Brian pull back his other hand —fisted and ready to deliver a payback punch— Frank winced, readying himself for the impact.  But the rage in Brian's face faltered.  His eyes widen in a jolt of realization and with it he tore his grip away from Frank's throat.  Frank gulped in a few greedy breaths of air, his hand lightly rubbing at his neck as he watched Brian back paddle a few paces away from him.  They were both breathing a little raggedly, in a locked down stare at each other. Shock and regret shared in both their eyes.

"Fuck," Brian breathed, taking another step back, "I'm sorry."

More drawn out seconds of staring and silence as muddled brains tried to process what had happened.  And then with muttering two more 'sorry's Brian turned and made his way off the bus.

Frank let himself slowly slide down against the cabinets and slump to the floor. What had just happened?  Frank wasn't sure, but he knew it was bad.  He wasn't angry anymore.  Just confused and sad and fucking tired. 

"I'm sorry," he murmured in the empty bus.  And there on floor, wet costume and all, he passed out. 

Happy birthday.

~

Frank had been trying to find the right moment all that late morning to apologize to Brian. He wanted to do it face to face, but the bus was full and on the move. He woke up to it that way; in his bunk in rain damp clothes and still drunk —but at least a very faded kind of drunk. He couldn't remember getting in his bed, but Frank did have the fuzzy memory of the fight. He knew he needed to talk to Brian, and Brian had been up in the lounge area, but so were a few others. There was no opportunity for a private talk, and the planned rest stop wasn't going to happen for quite some time.

After being friendly teased over his black eye and drunken birthday shenanigans, after a change of clothes, after more teasing, after downing two bottles of water and a cereal bar, after the most satisfying of a piss, after losing a video game to Matt, Frank couldn't continue through the now early afternoon pretending everything was normal. Frank was in the lounge area, eyes glued on the TV screen looking like he was engrossed in watching Matt and Dan's game, but he was internally fidgeting. It was killing Frank that Brian was just six feet away sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, but they couldn't talk. It was killing Frank that all they had exchanged were groggy 'hey's when he had first gotten up.

As discretely as he could, Frank took a quick glance to his left. Matt and Dan were sitting between them, but they were in focused game playing mode sitting on the edge of the cushions, so they allowed Frank to have a clear view of Brian. A Brian painfully silent and appearing to be absorbed with whatever he was doing on his phone.

Frank looked down to his hands in his lap and picked at the chipping black nail polish. There was more exposed nail than paint at this point, and there was probably going to be none at all by the time the stupid bus stopped. This really was going to kill him if he had to keep this bottled up mess inside him any longer. A face to face chat just couldn't wait. Frank needed to lighten his heavy chest. And he needed to do it now. He pulled out his phone and sent Brian a text.

**im** **sorry**

Frank inwardly grimaced. He should have said more than that at the start. He watched Brian out of the corner of his eye. The man was on his phone already, he had to have read the message. Seconds ticked by, then a full minute. Then another. It didn't look like Brian was typing anything back. Frank fought the urge to nervously bounce his knees. He sent another message, then another and another and another feeling more desperate and frantic the longer Brian went without responding.

**idk** **if i remember everything we said or if you** **do, but** **im** **pretty sure i punched you.** **im** **sorry. i know being drunk** **isnt** **an** **excuse** **.**   
**im** **gonna make sure it never gets like that** **again** **okay** **.**   
**i** **didnt** **mean for some weird slip to happen. but at least i think it helped.** **You've** **been** **over** **shit** **and** **ive** **been** **stuck** **,** **but** **i** **think** **that** **lastnight** **woke me up. i think** **ive** **gotten** **over** **you.** **im** **over it. so we don't have to worry about anymore stupid mistakes.**

Saying he was over Brian was a big fat lie, but Frank felt it was something that needed to be said to bring the friendship back to a level playing field. And the beauty with a text is that Brian didn't have the opportunity to hear the dishonesty in Frank's voice.

**we're both over feelings and shit now right, so we're cool?**   
**you're my** **bestfriend** **asshole,** **plz** **say** **something**

Frank's heart was beginning to get worked up as things were still very silent on Brian's end. Frank wasn't sure if he could take anymore of the ignoring. He had to remind himself that Matt and Dan were still in the room, so he couldn't exactly start screaming out desperate pleas to Brian right now. But then it showed up on Frank's screen:

**_Something._** Brian finally responded.

Frank glared at the word, but as douchey a response as it was, a spark of relief flashed in Frank's chest. It was Brian being a playful scumbag, and that was a good sign. Frank inwardly smiled.

**You're** **such** **a** **dick**

_**At** _ _**least** _ _**I'm** _ _**not** _ _**a** _ _**leprechaun** _ **.**

And now a cheap shot at his height. That was definitely a step in the right direction. A full feeling of relief washed over Frank's body this time. The smile he held in now curled ever so slightly at the corners of his mouth.

**Ok** **nice** **one** **.** Frank relented.  
 **We** **good** **?**

Frank was relieved, sure; but he needed to be certain. He needed a friendship where he didn't have to walk on eggshells anymore.

"Hey Tink, come here." It was Brian abandoning the text to speak out loud. "I've got a killer video of Johnny from last night you need to see."

"Oh shit," Matt piped in with a laugh, eyes still focused on his game as he spoke. "Tell me you captured that dumb shit he did on the bar stool."

"In Hi-Def, man," Brian grinned proudly.

Frank smiled more, so thankful they were a couple of idiots that could for better or worse sweep away the events of last night.  It was more playing pretend, but if that's what it took for things to feel normal, then so be it. "What'd he do and how'd I miss it?" Frank questioned with a chuckle, hurrying around Dan and Matt.

"I imagine all that dance floor tonsil hockey was a bit of a distraction," Dan teased. "You little slut."

"Hey, can't blame the ladies for wanting a piece of this," Brian spoke in Frank's defense, managing to slip in a quick slap to Frank's ass before Frank sat down beside him. "I know I wouldn't mind a slice."

Matt and Dan shared a bout of groaning laughter, as Frank felt the heat of a blush rise to his face. Damn, it had been a while since Frank was slammed with the good ol' sexual harassment.  He was struck with that familiar silly sort of embarrassment, and to a great amazement didn't really feel weird about it. It was normal acting Brian after all —the bighearted perv. Maybe that mess last night had been a blessing in disguise, giving them a hard shake to their cores to reboot things back on track between them.

"Shut up," Frank said through an embarrassed smile, settling down cross-legged between Brian and Dan.

"Soorrry," Brian spoke cheekily. But he leaned in close to Frank's ear after. A move that went unnoticed to the gaming duo in the room. "I'm sorry," he said again, but in a whisper and much more serious.

Frank knew it wasn't an apology about the teasing. He knew wholeheartedly that this was a sorry about last night, about everything; and Frank gave his head a small nod to let Brian know he understood. They shared a brief small smile before Brian flat out grinned and shoved his phone into Frank's hands.

"Prepare to laugh your ass off."

Frank smiled more to himself before he pressed play. Maybe it was partially him putting on an act still, but at least that meant part of the normalcy Frank was feeling was _real_. At least it meant they were okay. He felt better now than he did when the tour first started, because this was them slipping into a normal groove, and Frank was going to make sure that didn't get fucked it up.


	11. Look Twice, Save a Life

"Dammit!" Frank cursed after the eleventh failed attempt at kickstarting his bike. "Fucking piece of shit!"

The cursing came out a little muffled from under his closed-visor helmet. The leather jacket clad boy was more than miffed. Maybe with finally earning real paychecks after that first real money making tour he should have looked for a new reliable ride before he started the apartment hunting. He was supposed to be on his way to look at a place now.  The appointment was suppose to start in exactly thirty-seven minutes.  Frank filled with an angry kind of panic.  He wasn't going to make it.  The apartment itself was nothing much, but it had looked close to perfect online, and Frank had high hopes of making it his real 'on his own' first place. He had been Mr. Goddamn Adult setting this thing up, research and dreaded phone calls. And for what? So he'd just have to call again like an idiot and cancel? He was going to come across as just this flaky stupid kid with dumb excuses that the manager wouldn't want to bother with as a tenant. 

Deep down he knew his worry was a little overboard, but Frank couldn't bother with reason right now.  He had his heart set on this working out today.  It had only been just over a week  since the tour ended, only just over a week of back to living on his sister's couch; but with his new monetary independence Frank was very ready to get out of that situation.  He loved Chelsea and Zack without question, but being that awkward third wheel needed to end and having his own real space needed to start.  Frank was desperate for that space, especially after the tour.  He loved all his friends and definitely had fun, even with the Brian drama peppered in, but space was a necessity right now.  He needed to find a home for himself and his own kind of normalcy while not on tour.

Frank took a determined breath.  He didn't want to give up just yet.  He didn't want to make that embarrassing awkward phone call to postpone the appointment.  So again and again and again he tried to start the bike.  And he did hear the sound of a motorcycle engine, but unfortunately it wasn't the sound of his coming to life.  It was Brian on his own bike pulling into the complex parking lot.  A few more tries, and Frank climbed off the bike as Brian pulled up next to him.  Frank yanked off his helmet, and with a frustrated yell he gave his two-wheeled piece of shit a hard kick.  It fell over with a metal scratching thud just as Brian got off his bike.

Brian took off his helmet and raised his brows at Frank. "Sooo, need any help with that?"

"Maybe if you've got a sledgehammer to completely put it out of it's misery." Frank gave it another small kick for good measure. "I don't have time to try and fix it again.  I've got that appointment at Ridge Crest like _now_.  Chels and Zacky aren't around, I don't know if there's any bus I can catch, and I do _not_ call cabs. I'm gonna miss it, fuck."

"Not that I want to help you in possibly moving across town but, here idiot," Brian tossed Frank the key to his bike.

It was a rush of relief and also a little pang of guilt.  Frank didn't think of asking for Brian's help. Not when he knew that Brian was less than thrilled about his plans to move from the complex.  There were a few open units here at La Palmera that Frank could have looked in to, a fact that Brian tried to convince him of more than once.

Frank played the "I need to not live so close to my sister" card with him, but in reality Brian was the big reason Frank wouldn't consider living at the same complex. Not when he was really starting to succeed with the "I'm not completely head over heels with Brian" lying game. The friendship had continued to work out okay since the post Halloween make up. Frank handled the rest of the tour pretty damn well.  Minimal leaks from the stashed away sadness and jealousy. Things felt practically normal with each other, and Frank didn't want it to get ruined.  He was afraid it would if he didn't get a break from constantly seeing the man.  Living together while on tour AND having Brian live just a few doors from him during down time wouldn't work.  There needed to be distance for Frank to keep up the charade long enough for it to become real.  For him to completely get over his feelings for his friend.

"You're sure?" Frank asked, clutching the key.

"You learned how to ride on it, didn't you?  I know you'll treat her right.  I just need to leave here by four later, so just be back by then."

"No problem. I owe you huge. I need to go. You're awesome. Thanks." It all rattled off Frank's tongue in a rush, and in just seconds it was helmet on, bike started, and out of the lot.

Frank was excited as he road down the street.  He was sure he was going to make it to the appointment just on time now, and hopefully if everything went well the ball would get rolling today on getting him applied and moved in there as soon as possible.  Yes, excited and hopeful. There was the small part of him that wished he felt okay with staying close to Brian on break —a slight little wrench of the heart— but a bit of distance was for the best.  Frank was convinced.

He didn't let the sad feeling bother him long though, not while he was on a motorcycle.  He was only going a touch over the speed limit, nothing a cop would bother pulling him over for, but it was still plenty fast enough to feel the freedom of the ride. The wind whipping around him, the sound and vibration of the motor. It was this odd calming-exhilaration. No worries about the impending "grownup" meeting. No worries about Brian.  But unfortunately, a new heart pounding worry was about to enter Frank's life. Specifically, from his left and very fucking fast.

Frank's heart leapt out of his chest in a matter of a split second. He was in trouble and there was barely any time to react.  Frank had a close call with an idiot car driver in the past, but nothing he couldn't zip away from with some colorful cursing. But this wasn't just some moron doing some oblivious slow-drift lane change in his direction. This black pickup truck had basically barreled out of a left side street Frank was about to pass by. The squealing of the truck's breaking tires sounded, but too little too late. No way was that heavy hunk of metal going to stop in time with that momentum. They were going to collide. Frank did the only thing he could do in those milliseconds, he managed to cut hard to the right sending the bike toward the sidewalk. Frank lost control with that sudden sharp turn. It was basically moving sideways from the harsh jerk and starting to tip. As the bike made its contact with the curb Frank let himself get flung from the right side of the machine, at the very least able to instinctively discern that to be the better option than trying to hang on to the bike and have it possibly crush part of his body.

Frank connected hard with the cement ground of the sidewalk and tumbled a few times before he came to a stop face up in the grass of someone's small front yard. All he could seem to do in those first few seconds was breathe rushed and ragged. Frank's heart was racing so fast it seemed in danger of burning itself out. He laid unmoving, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to process what had just happened. His head hurt, his whole right side did for that matter. But it was Frank's right shoulder that was truly screaming out in pain.

Nauseous and lightheaded, Frank pulled his helmet off with his left hand and slowly attempted to sit up. A very unsuccessful attempt. The small movement made his shoulder scream in protest, as well as causing a more intense wave of dizziness. With a hiss Frank clutched his right arm tight to his body and held in a cry, but he couldn't help the tears that welled up in his eyes from the pain.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" The female voice finally made Frank peel his eyes open. Once he got over the initial brightness the blurry figure of a thirty-something woman came into focus. She wore a shocked and worried expression, and was a little out of breath from hurriedly running outside the home Frank had wrecked in front of. Her hair in a sloppy bun, barefoot, and still in pajamas, she crouched down beside him. "I saw what happened," she spoke rushed and nervously adjusted the glasses on her nose. "That guy could have slammed right into you and he just drove off. Are you hurt? God, you look hurt."

"I- I fell off my bike," Frank spoke with his aching head in a fog, sounding more like he was reminding himself that it happened. "My shoulder's mess up," he confessed to the stranger. "I'm really dizzy. Fuck," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight again. He wished he could crawl into a fetal position, but moving was just going to cause more pain and probably bring about the appearance of vomit.

"I'm getting you an ambulance," the woman said hastily.

If he had the ability to concentrate on more than one thing at a time Frank probably would have argued against the need for an ambulance, would have tried to dig his own phone out of his pocket and just called a friend for help. But the pain he was feeling was the all encompassing thing on his mind. He barely registered the noise of the woman talking —whether it was on her phone or to him.

A small piece of Frank's brain was then able to wish he wasn't just there with a stranger.  That he had one of his friends with him to somehow make it better. It was someone in particular that his mind clung too. It probably should have been his sister, but it was Brian.  God, did he ever wish Brian was there.

Frank kept his eyes closed and tried to just focus on his breathing. Maybe the sound of sirens would be welcomed after all.

~

Sitting propped up in a hospital bed and complete in a hospital gown, Frank stared down at his right arm in a navy blue sling with a furrowed brow. At the moment he didn't quite understand why he was wearing it and why his shoulder had a dull ache. "I don't remember," Frank spoke a little groggily like he had been for almost the past two hours, as well as in a bit of frustration. "This is so weird."

"It's okay, sweetie." Chelsea sat next to the left side the bed in full big sister mode. The blond beauty reached down to give Frank's blanket covered leg a comforting rub. "It got dislocated and torn when your bike crashed."

"Right," he nodded slowly. "When I hit my head."

"That's right," she smiled encouragingly. "You're getting it."

Frank slowly rolled his head around in a little neck stretch and tried to think straight. The concussion he suffered messed him up enough, and though the lovely anti-inflammatory, pain killing, muscle relaxing cocktail made him physically feel pretty damn good, it wasn't exactly helping his ability to think straight. Frank's thoughts were so hazy. His brain was in a fog and the answers to his questions seemed to be annoyingly just out of sight. "What time is it?"

"It's 4:15, dude," Zack answered from where he sat beside Chelsea. He discretely held his phone in his lap making a video of this post head trauma confusion. "Your headache still bad?"

"I don't have a headache," Frank responded with his brows furrowed slightly in confusion. He didn't remember having one in the first place.

"Do you remember where we are?" Chelsea gently prodded.

"A hospital," Frank answered with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not stupid."

"No one's staying you're stupid, Squish." She gave his leg another pat. "Do you remember which one?"

"Um, the Springs one?"

"Yes, awesome," she smiled.

"How is it awesome that I'm in _any_ hospital?" Frank frowned lopsidedly. "How long have we been here?"

"Like two hours," Zack answered.

"Shit." It came as a surprise to Frank. "Do the doctors know I woke up?"

"You've been awake the whole time, dude," Zack couldn't fight an amused smile springing to his face. "You've seen doctors already, had scans, and you've been talking to us and shit, but you forget and you've been asking the same questions over and over again."

"No." Frank's nose scrunched up in his look of disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"As serious as the fact that I've explained this to you at least five times before. It took a good twenty minutes of talking in circles for you to grasp the fact you got into an accident and have a concussion."

"On the bike, I know that." Frank rubbed his mobile hand down his face. "Is he fucking with me?" Frank directed this at Chelsea. This was all hard to swallow. Zacky was an awesome guy, but could definitely be a shithead sometimes.

"Yeah, you've been a little confused and repeating yourself," she explained gently. "But the doctor said you're gonna be fine. It's just gonna take a little bit of time."

"Well it doesn't sound fine, does it?" He was in a lazy sort of panic, eyes a little wide and his voice slightly raised, but still acting groggy. "My brain is broken. How long 'til I'm fixed? How long have I been here already anyway?"

"Two hours," Zack answered the repeated question through a laugh.

"Zackary," Chelsea scolded, but she did have a hint of a smile on her face too. Most of the worry had eased off, and the humor of Frank's expected short term problem could be appreciated a little bit.

"Alright Frankie," Zack held up his phone higher, "I need you to look into the camera and tell everyone to always wear a helmet."

"You've been making a fucking video of me?" Frank realized with annoyance, but found himself smiling nonetheless. "Fuck you. I've been looking like a fucking idiot, haven't I?"

"Shut that off," Chelsea swatted Zack's hands, disapprovingly but still smiled. "You made enough of those."

"You'll thank me later when he's all better and we get to laugh at them with him. And how the hell can I deprive the other guys of this shit." He wiggled the phone in her face. "AND you know your dad is gonna love seeing these."

Frank was about to ask something about his father but the sound of Zack's phone suddenly going off disrupted that train of thought.

"Hey," Zack answered the phone. "Already? Damn.........Um yeah, 202. See you in a sec then."

"Who was that?" Frank questioned.

"Brian. He's here and on his way to the room now."

"He's here?" It was a blend of surprise and happiness to hear.

"Remember, dude?" Zack spoke slowly, "I had a conversation with him on your phone like twenty minutes ago right in front of you when he called wondering where the hell you were with his bike."

Frank most definitely didn't remember, but that frustrating memory failure didn't bother him this time because the elation in learning that Brian was on his way to see him trumped everything. And soon enough Frank heard his friend's voice softly calling out for Zack.

"At the bed at the end," Zack called back and soon Brian appeared from around the drawn privacy curtain. He came to a stop at the foot of Frank's bed. The man looked worried sick.

"I'm sorry again we didn't call at first, hon," Chelsea spoke to Brian. "I only let our dad know. I figured we'd wait til he was discharged to tell everyone so no one had to worry."

Chelsea's apology seemed to fall on deaf ears. Brian's eyes were only on Frank, and he spoke to him in a rushed voice flooded with concern. "You're okay? You're okay, right? God."

Frank didn't speak at first. Just seeing Brian there made Frank feel content in that moment. Made the haze in his brain feel not so frustrating. It really wasn't that long of a pause, but Brian didn't take Frank's silence too well. He looked even more worried if that was even possible.

"Fuck," he looked to Chelsea and Zack with concern, "he knows who I am right? That memory thing you talked about isn't that bad is it?"

"Calm down, dude-" Zack started, but Frank interjected.

"How could I ever forget who you are? You're Synyster goddamn Gates."

Brian managed a chuckle of relief before he was right back into serious concerned mode. "You're okay?"

"I'm okay."

"More like _going to be okay_ ," Zack chimed in. "But no worries. His acting like a retard thing isn't permanent."

"Retard?" Frank shot Zack a glare. "Fuck you, you fucking cunt stain."

"Well, at least you sound like yourself," Brian was able to joke with a half smile.

"Be nice," Chelsea swatted her boyfriend's arm. She spoke to Brian then, to seemingly put him at ease. "The doctor said his difficulty retaining information is normal for his grade of concussion, and it should only last twenty-four hours at the most. I swear he's already getting a lot better."

"I'm not having _difficulty_ with anything," Frank spoke with annoyance. "And if I'm better can I just leave then?"

"Not at least for another hour, Squish," Chelsea answered. "And when you do get home it's complete and utter do-nothing bed rest for a week."

"What? That's fucking bullshit," Frank groaned. "Nothing's fucking wrong with me."

"You smashed your head on fucking pavement, Frank," Brian spoke up, "you don't get away from that with nothing wrong. The doctor says bed rest, you get bed rest. In fact, maybe you should stay with me."

"Bri, I don't think-" Chelsea began.

"What?" Brian quickly cut her off, crossing his arms over his chest. "You gonna make him spend day and night after day and night on that lumpy couch? Bed rest means bed. You both aren't about to give up yours; that's stupid. He can have mine. What do you say, squirt?" Brian questioned Frank. "How do you feel about staying with me?"

Frank thankfully wasn't in a state of being able to overthink it. He simply answered how he felt, and how he felt was pleased. "I'd like that," he answered softly with a tired smile. A smile Brian returned.

Chelsea sighed, looking between the two very unsure. "Why don't we discuss this a little more later," she spoke to Brian. "How about we just start with you babysitting for a few minutes." She got to her feet and motioned for Zack to follow her lead, "Let's take a break. Get something from the vending machine." She looped her arm around her boyfriend's, and spoke to Brian next. "Just answer his questions and try not to get frustrated, or laugh at him when he asks the same thing fifty times." Chelsea cast her brother a loving smile, "Be back in a few, Squish." Warm departing words for her brother as she and Zack began to leave, but her words of "Don't you fuck with him. He's not thinking straight," to Brian were hissed with a quiet deadly seriousness.

Frank missed the exchange, and Brian didn't seem phased by it. As soon as the couple was out of sight, he quickly moved to sit at one of the chairs pulled up beside Frank's bed. Brian gently gripped a hand to Frank's uninjured arm and stared at him with worried, guilt ridden eyes.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Brian spoke. "This was my fault."

A lopsided frown tugged at Frank's lips. He didn't like seeing his friend upset and feeling guilty over something he had nothing to do with. "What are you talking about?"

"You getting in a fucking wreck."

"I don't remember it happening, but don't be stupid, I know it couldn't have been your fault."

"I should have just drove you myself," Brian shook his head at himself. "Or just have been the douche I wanted to be and not let you take my bike at all."

"Your bike?" Frank echoed back in confusion at first, but then the fuzzy knowledge came back to him. "Shit, your bike." Frank frowned, a face etched with groggy worry and guilt. "I was riding your bike. Fuck. I don't know how bad it got messed up. I'm sorry."

Brian's hand moved to Frank's, and he squeezed it gently, but the sincere gaze Brian held with Frank was firm. "If you think for one single second I give a shit about what happened to the bike..." Brian trailed off shaking his head. "You are far more important than a hunk of metal and wheels."

Frank smiled just a little. It was more than a nice feeling to hear Brian say that, to have him hold his hand.  Frank gripped him back lightly. "I'm still sorry." Frank yawned then. He enjoyed the few seconds his eyes were closed, his brain just swimming in the fog and medication before looking to Brian with a tired gaze. "I just wanna go home," he sighed. "All I'm doing is lying here. I can do the same thing on my fucking couch."

"No couch. My bed is yours for the next week. You still okay with that?"

He didn't exactly remember being okay with it in the first place, but Frank felt okay about it now. He just wasn't sure why it was happening. "I can stay with you? For a week?"

"Okay, they weren't lying," Brian murmured to himself, witnessing the first memory failure in his presence.   "You need to be on bed rest for a week to recover," he gently explained. "And you can stay with me, as long as your sister believes I'm not gonna break you."

"She... Wait," Frank's eyes scanned around in confusion. "Chels was here right? And Zack? Where'd they go?"

Brian pressed his lips together in worry at more knowledge forgotten. "They just went to grab some food."

"Oh, right." Frank's gaze absently slid down to his lap, his brow furrowed. That confusion was back on why he couldn't remember something he should have been able to.

"Hey, don't sweat it," Brian comforted, giving Frank's hand a small squeeze. "Your brain got scrambled. You just need some time for it to unfuck itself."

"Were those the medical terms the doctors told you?" Frank joked. "I haven't even seen one yet so I don't... No wait," Frank squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to remember. He couldn't for the life of him picture any doctor or nurse that had seen him, but he was pretty sure he remembered being told that he had been checked out already. "This is so confusing and weird," Frank sighed. "Like I'm fine. I am. But I don't know, shit's fuzzy. I'm just tired."

"Just try to relax."

"It's hard to. I hate hospitals. I just wanna go home. I'm–" Frank looked to Brian, cocking his head a little quizzically as he went on. "I'm going home with you, right?" He asked slowly.

"Yeah," Brian smiled a little.

"I probably shouldn't, but I want to anyway." It was a small dose of thinking a little clearer, but at the same time had Frank truly been thinking clear he wouldn't have divulged that information.

A slight frown tugged at Brian's lips. "I don't know if you're gonna remember this or not but, I know I've disappointed you —hurt you— with our friendship not being where you wanted it. I don't know if you're really over everything or not, or if you're afraid I'm gonna make it bad again, but I swear I'm not out to mess with you. I'm here to make it right. I'm here to make it up to you. I know I'm the reason you wanna move away. _I know._ You being here right now is my fault. I know I wasn't driving the car that made you wreck, but I fucking might as well have." Brian held on to Frank's hand a little tighter, looking into his eyes earnestly. "The only thing I care about right now is taking care of you. I know things aren't perfect between us, but you gotta know I still I love you, you little shit."

"I know," Frank said back quietly. A small trace of a smile curled at his lips, those last few words out of Brian's mouth making Frank's heartbeat quicken on its own accord. Those words were almost like music to hear, but even through a muddled brain, Frank knew the love Brian spoke wasn't the same one Frank had desperately hoped for for so long.

They shared a mirroring gaze of soft, almost sad looking smiles, content in the silence that ticked by, but the shuffling feet of Zack and Chelsea entering the room seemed to kick Brian out of that contentment. He quickly pulled his hand away from Frank's before the pair rounded the curtain into sight. Frank still smiled though, his mind desperately clinging to "I love you", but even then the memory of Brian's words were already starting to fade into the fog.


	12. Sleepover

Frank lounged lazily across the sofa of Brian's apartment. It was almost one in the afternoon, and the kid was wearing a Spider Man shirt and pajama pants. Not exactly afternoon attire, but everything was at least clean after he managed a shower that morning. His ensemble was unfortunately topped off with a black immobilizing sling that held his right arm secure with a strap over his shoulder and another around his back. It had been a week and one day precisely since his accident, and it had been a hellish week of doctor ordered boredom. Frank happily slept for the most part of those first few days, but it was when he started to feel better but couldn't do anything— it was the biggest case of frustrated boredom he even felt. Those damn discharge papers from the hospital took away any form of mental or physical stimulation for a week. Frank could have more easily dealt with the obvious ones like 'no operating machinery', but he wasn't even allowed to read, play around with his phone or watch TV. It was literally a solid week of laying around in hopeless disgruntlement whenever he was awake.

But now Frank's bed rest sentence was over. He still had to deal with some ordered restrictions from both the shoulder injury and the head trauma, but at least he could get up and move and fucking watch TV. And watch TV he did. Since he crept out of his week-long borrowed bed to the sweet freedom of the living room, Frank pretty much spent the late morning and early afternoon watching Netflix and fucking around on his phone.

Brian hadn't been home, and Frank was kind of thankful for his absence. Not that Frank hated his friend's company or that his week-long sleepover recovery went bad.  Quite the opposite.  Brian had basically been Frank's nurse-servant. A very worrisome, over protective nurse-servant. The guy gave up his bed, brought Frank meals, laid out clean clothes, helped him dress, aided the kid to and from the bathroom, and whatever else Frank needed in between.

Frank appreciated every moment his friend spent with him, each and every little thing Brian did to help him through this past week, even with how the guy strictly enforced all the bed rest rules.  Frank felt so lucky to have his help.  But on the flip side, as the days went by and Frank started to feel better all that help started to feel smothering.  At least Frank's annoyance with the man treating him like a baby that couldn't do anything for itself helped keep Frank's leftover feelings for Brian from bubbling up to the surface.  Choosing to stay with Brian this week was a risk of opening the floodgates of the feelings he successfully dammed away.  But Frank lasted the week and everything was fine. Well, with maybe one little thought or two of how much nicer Brian's bed would have been if Brian was sleeping in it with him.

The week was over, and technically Frank could have left 'Recovery House Haner' when he woke up that morning, could have just headed back to his sister's and Zack's place, but Frank felt he owed it to his friend to stick around until Brian showed up so Frank could properly say his thank you and goodbye.

Frank perked up when he heard the sound of the door being unlocked.  He stretched out a little and sat up straight and cross-legged when Brian came through the door. 

"Hey, look who's up and about." Brian dumped off a couple grocery bags in the kitchen first before he made his way into the living area. "You feeling alright? I didn't mean to be gone so long. You have the breakfast I left for you? You hungry now? I can make you some lunch."

"You can dial it back, man," Frank chuckled at Brian's barrage of words, "I'm fine. Really. Thanks for breakfast."

"You sure you're alright?" Brian questioned, kicking off his shoes and taking a seat on the couch as well.  "I know today it's supposed to be over, but you still look pretty exhausted. The orders were only seven days _at the_ _least_. One more day in bed wouldn't hurt."

"I am tired," Frank admitted. Sleeping for the majority of a week with just lazy walks through a small apartment so muscles wouldn't forget how to move proved to leave a body stuck in a no-energy state. "I'm okay though. I sure as fuck don't need to be stuck doing nothing for another day.  I know I'm not good to go climb a fucking mountain or some shit, but I think I can handle watching TV."

"Fair enough." Brian smiled briefly before turning serious. "Listen, I know I've probably been worse of a mother-Nazi than Chels this past week, but I just wanted to make sure you got better right. And I just wanna make sure you don't push yourself too fast before you're ready.  You needed your rest and you still need it.  Remember that.  You didn't just get a scratch."

"I know," Frank nodded with a little frown and found himself glancing down at his useless right arm. Frank was not looking forward to the physical therapy appointment he had tomorrow afternoon.  He looked back to Brian and his frown turned into a small smile. "I feel a million times better than I did when I first got here though, and you're pretty much the reason."

"It was nothing, short shit," Brian brushed off.  "But hey, the reason I was gone all goddamn morning is I finally cleared up that mess with the impound lot. I got my bike back.  It's at my dad's." He smiled.

A little pang of guilt shot through Frank even if Brian was smiling; he was the reason Brian's motorcycle got busted up and taken away. "It's not that thrashed is it?" Frank questioned with a little wince.  "I swear I'll take care of it.  I broke it, and I'll make sure it gets fixed."

"You didn't break it. A piece of human fucking scum did," Brian got tense, a murderous scowl on his face. "If I ever find out who made you wreck and just left you there... They'll get their fucking turn in a hospital bed."

"Alright, let's not get worked up, yeah? It's over. I'm here, and I'm gonna heal up just fine."

"I'm allowed to get worked up. When Zacky answered your phone and said you were in an accident, I don't think I've ever been so scared before. You could have..."

"Don't think about that," Frank said quietly.

"I do though. I mean, considering everything, you were lucky only banging up your head and shoulder.  But you just as easily could have been fucking killed.  Just like that, you would have been gone.  And that thought has been eating away at me."

Frank bit his lip, his eyes turning sad.  The last thing he wanted was for his friend to feel tortured over the horrible what-ifs of his accident, not when Frank himself didn't even dwell on it.  Though of course, maybe Frank would be feeling scared about it too if he could remembered anything about it. 

"Brian..." He started, but Frank wasn't sure what to say.

"I know, sorry," Brian shook his head at himself. "I didn't mean for the conversation to turn dark. You're here.  You're getting better.  That's happy shit."

"Yeah," Frank smiled a bit. "Thanks so much for letting me stay here.  I can't imagine having to have gotten through this week living on Chels' couch. Man, I'm gonna miss your bed." Frank meant it innocently enough, but after the words left his throat that lip-biting embarrassed smile sprung to his face.

"Maybe you don't have to," Brian responded. And it wasn't said in a sexual joking way as Frank would have expected, but rather a soft-spoken genuine offer.

Frank quirked a curious brow, unsure what to think. "What?"

Brian picked at a hole in his jeans and took a deep breath like he was nervous, and that in turn made Frank nervous. "Frank," Brian started, the tone serious and his weighty gaze locked with Frank's. "I've been waiting to talk to you until you got better.  I didn't want to dump any heavy shit on you when all you were supposed to be doing was resting. But the week's over so..." Brian took another breath, resolute. "You're a spaz, Frank Iero. And funny and annoying and so fucking full of heart. You're this perfect fucking package that I kept lying to myself about. I could have lost you that day of the crash. I never would have had a chance to... I–" Brian paused before he got worked up. "I'm sorry it took something so drastic happening to open my fucking eyes, my fucking heart. I don't know how you feel anymore, maybe I lost my chance. You said you were over me, but I'm banking on the hope that you were lying. I want us to be together."

Frank just sat, stared, and blinked repeatedly as Brian's words soaked into his brain. Frank couldn't grasp this being real life right now. Maybe he was making this all up in his head. Maybe there was more to the head injury then the doctors thought. Frank finally found his voice, but what came out wasn't exactly the most coherent string of words. "I... Did you just say... What?"

Brian smiled warmly, looking like he was holding in a little chuckle at Frank's shocked expense. "I want you. Only you. And if I'm lucky enough to not have waited too long to really see that, I was hoping, if you still felt the same way... Be with me, Frankie."

Well, hearing that didn't help anything. Frank was dizzy. Maybe seven days of rest wasn't enough, especially for his mind to handle something like this. Frank couldn't think at first. But then the first wave of emotion washed over him with a crash. Down went the walls where Frank had been slowly tucking away his feelings for Brian. He had accomplished so much and thought he had been so close to making them disappear, but now it all flooded back. Brian wanted to be with him, and that truly getting through to Frank made an eruption of elation surge through his body. A ghost of a smile tugged at Frank's lips as he absently stared at the floor while in his swirl of thoughts. This is what Frank wanted all along. It was finally happening. He should be nothing but happy, but a seed of angry disbelief started to grow. All those months of backseated misery and pushing away feelings and playing pretend; and now after all that Brian wanted to take a chance on being together? Like saying 'Be with me' would now suddenly make up for how brokenhearted Brian had made him feel.

"You asshole," Frank blurted out before bringing his angry gaze to Brian.

Brian's eyes widened in shock. He clearly wasn't expecting that reaction. His mouth opened to speak, but Frank didn't give him a chance to get any words out.

"How long ago was it that we told each other we liked each other, and you wouldn't fucking give us a chance? You crushed me, you fucking idiot."

"I know I–"

"Fucking crushed me! And then just like that you fucking poured salt in the wound, fucking hitting on any pretty fucking thing you came across. Do you know how hard it was not to get physically ill watching you go off to fuck other people? You said I meant something. You said–"

"Woah woah, wait just a minute!" Brian interjected. "I didn't fuck anybody. Just let me explain. I told you back then how it scared the shit outta me, me having feelings for you. Just me having feelings like that period. I wasn't that kind of guy. I just would have messed up. I thought it was in everybody's best interest to not even try. I was so sure I would just screw everything up later, so bad that you wouldn't ever want to be around me. I thought me just going back to being Mr. Fucking Player would help me forget how I felt about you. And I'll admit, I went on the hunt, flirty touching, kissing, the going off to somewhere private with every intention... But I could never go through with it. I'd think about you every time, and I'd have to bail out." Brian sighed and chanced placing his hand on Frank's knee. "I know that doesn't make up for everything. I was still a fucking idiot, still afraid I'd hurt you. But shit, I was hurting you all along pretending everything was fine as it was, and I'm sorry Frankie. I'm sorry it took you almost getting killed for me to really understand how important you are to me, for me to fucking grow a pair. I'm in love with you." This brief glimpse of a shocked expression shown on Brian's face with the admission of those last few words, but that shock was quickly wiped away with a very sure gaze. "Yes," he nodded undoubtedly. "The thought of living my life without yours in it makes it hard to breathe. I'm no expert, but I think that means I'm in love you, Tinkerbell." Brian shifted closer, moving his hand to gently hold at the side of Frank's face. "Please tell me I'm not too late."

It wasn't fair. The loving pleading tone of Brian's voice, the caress of his hand.  And dear god, Brian saying he loved him. Frank wanted to stay mad, but how the fuck could he? Not with what everything Brian just said, not with the way Brian was gazing into his eyes. For so long during their friendship Frank would have given anything to have Brian look at him that way. Nothing but love and caring in those brown eyes. Brian wasn't supposed to win his forgiveness this easily.

"You're such an asshole," Frank expressed again, but in a soft tone this time and somehow lovingly said.

He leaned into close to Brian right away. It was just a firm press of lips against lips for a moment, but it gave way to tongues moving together, slow and deliberate. Desperately. Frank felt that familiar flip and flutter of his stomach. It had been too damn long since he had that feeling. He didn't want it to stop, yet Frank pulled away. He needed to see, make sure this was real.

Brian was smiling at him softly. "So I take it 'asshole' is code for 'I love you too'?" That smile turned into a small smirk.

Frank couldn't help but let out a small chuckle even if his mind was racing. From the beginning the kid would only admit to himself that he really, really liked Brian, not full blown love. Maybe because a 'like' would have been easier to get over than a 'love'. But there was nothing to try to get over anymore, and with the way Frank's heart swelled, it felt foolish now to try to deny his feelings went that far.

"Yeah. I love you." Frank looked over Brian's face and smiled more, then he had to giggle. "Shit, this is so weird. Is this really happening?"

"It is weird," Brian admitted with a small chuckle of his own. "But a good weird. And it's as real as me kissing that pretty face of yours again," Brian spoke smugly with a grin.

The kisses were a mix of innocent and more deep and needy. It was making Frank's head spin in the best possible way. He had given up on this ever coming to be, and now it was happening: him and Brian together. When the bout of kissing ended, Frank came away from it with probably the biggest smile he ever had on his face.

"Look at you," Brian mused. "I'm gonna promise you right now that I will never do anything to take away that smile. I don't know what it is about you, Iero, but it's like you thawed my heart out or some lame shit like that. Lord knows I've never done anything like this, but if I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna do it fucking right. I'm not gonna hide that I'm with you or that I love you. But do cut me some slack 'cause I still kinda don't know what I'm doing. How to act here."

"You don't have to act. Just be you, that's all I could ever want. Well, and ice cream. I really like ice cream," Frank grinned cheesily.

Brian laughed. "I think I can handle those things."

"You've made me pretty fucking happy today, you know that?" Frank couldn't stop smiling. He was absolutely reeling from elation.

"All I want to do is make you happy," Brian remarked with a soft smile, taking Frank's hand in his again.

It was another sweet sentiment pouring out of Brian's mouth, and it made Frank even happier; but Frank also couldn't help but laugh. "Shit, have you been listening to yourself? Were you really bitchin' about not knowing how to be in a relationship, and you know you've been talking like a giant mushball, right?"

"Shut your goddamn mouth, pint size. I think I reserve the right to be a sack of mush around you. It's your fault after all."

"That's fine by me. I never said I didn't like it," Frank gave his hand a squeeze. It felt amazing to sit together and have it be okay to just hold hands. It felt right.

"Good, 'cause I'm getting the feeling it's gonna happen a lot. Now all I think I need to do is decide if I'm gonna introduce you to people as my gear nanny or my boyfriend," Brian smirked. "Decisions."

Frank bit back a laugh and shot Brian a playful glare. "If you ever refer to me as your _nanny anything_ again I promise I'll dump you."

"Well, boyfriend it is then," Brian grinned.

Brian calling him his boyfriend struck a warm chord in Frank's chest, and somehow drove the point home that this was all real. "I like the sound of that," Frank smiled. "Shit, if I knew all this was gonna happen, I would've crashed my own bike a hell of a lot sooner."

And then he was pulling Brian in for another round of kissing.  After all the mess they went through, they were finally together and that called for a celebration.  A celebration of mouths puzzling together. The sheer amount of happiness buzzing between them making their kisses almost drunken.  The love was high and the heat was rising.  Frank wanted more.  Needed more.  Needed to feel Brian on top of him. Now.

He grabbed a fistful of Brian's shirt, forcing Brian to move with him as Frank shifted down to lay on the cushions.  Frank was momentarily saddened when he lost touch of his boyfriend's lips as Brian pulled away briefly to adjust more comfortably straddling Frank's waist.  But those lips soon came back, brought to Frank's neck instead, and Frank would never complain about that.  Brian's wet kisses, the nibbles, the hard bite, the firm suckling of his skin.  Frank was already a mess of little moans and even more satisfied knowing in the back of his mind surely that there was going to be a mark left there. For the first time Brian was truly marking his territory.

Brian wouldn't let up, and it only made Frank grow hotter.  The kid desperately bucked his hips up against Brian getting that much desired friction.  It got better as Brian pressed against him more heavily.  The man's strong hands came to grip tightly at one arm then the other, and normally Frank would have loved being in the that rough grip; but one of those arms was connected to his busted up shoulder. Frank couldn't stop the sharp hiss of pain he made, the noise promptly making Brian pull away.

"Shit, your shoulder," Brian exclaimed with worry. "Are you alright? I'm sorry. I got all caught up."

"I'm okay." Frank answered not completely true, and it showed in his face as he couldn't force his wince away.

"No you're not," Brian said pointedly. "Can I get you a pain pill? When's the last time you took one?"

"I didn't take one today," Frank admitted. "I was feeling okay enough, and I didn't want it making me feel anymore tired than I was."

"Well, you're stupid," Brian clambered off.  "Stay right there. I'll get you one."

Frank tried to argue, but Brian was insistent, dashing off and returning with a glass of water and one of Frank's prescription painkillers.  Brian carefully helped Frank sit up right, made sure he got the medicine down and apologized more.

"Well, I'm off to a good start," Brian mocked himself, "I'm someone's boyfriend for what? Ten minutes? And I forget they're hurt and hurt them more.  Go me."

"Stop that," Frank sighed. "I basically forgot too. It's fine. Really. We were... _distracted_." Frank grinned cheekily, but it soon got wiped off his face in the form of a yawn.  His already tired eyes looked more exhausted after it passed, and Brian definitely noticed.

"Well, it's not gonna happen again." Brian gently brushed Frank's hair away from his eyes. "I think maybe it's time for a nap, babe."

Frank would have been all about arguing against the need for sleep, but the way Brian called him 'babe' like that knocked away any thoughts of putting up a fight.

"Lay down with me?" Frank asked instead.

"Of course," Brian smiled.

It was into the bedroom and Frank slipping  into the left side of the bed and Brian into the right after more comfortably leaving his jeans off in a little heap on the floor. Frank was on his back and Brian on his side close to him, his arm lightly draped over Franks middle.  It was so nice laying together close and warm under the blankets.  This was one of Frank's sappy daydreams come true. He was happy. Over the moon. But he wasn't completely content. Lord help him, he was a young hormonal male that just got revved up on the couch. As tired as Frank was, he was even more hot and bothered. And more importantly, how could he just be expected to lay there? Brian was finally all his, and Frank wanted to consummate this shit like it was their wedding night.

"Brian," he spoke up softly after several silent minutes. "I'm not that tired really." In all honesty Frank was and when the painkiller really kicked in he'd be done for, but as far as he was concerned right now, sleep could fucking wait. "We could be a little more careful?  Try again?"

Brian sighed. "I don't wanna hurt you again."

"Come on," Frank urged, rubbing his fingers over the top of Brian's hand that hugged around him. If he had to beg then so be it.  Frank would do anything short of calling the man 'daddy' to get that connection he ached for.  "It's been so long," Frank's voice was breathy with desperation. "I've missed you. And now you're mine, and I'm yours. God, I just want you so bad." Frank let out a whimpering groan at just the thought of getting what he wanted.

"Fuck," Brian cursed under his breath. "You cannot make noises like that when I'm lying here trying to be strong."

"Fuck being strong, and just _fuck_ _me_ already." Frank made sure to whimper again. "I'm not made of glass. Don't let a stupid bum shoulder ruin this. Please. Just make me yours.  I need you." And Frank let Brian know exactly how much need he had, guiding Brian's hand down to the front of his pants where Frank was already painfully hard under the material.

"Shit Tink," Brian shuddered beside him. "Okay, you win."

They ended up in a spooning position, clothes shed, but the blanket drawn up warm around them. Frank was laying on his uninjured side with Brian flush up against his back. He was in this euphoric dizziness, overwhelmed with love and lust and a little dash of painkiller. Brian kept a strong arm held around him, peppering kisses on Frank's neck as he deeply rocked in and out in a steady slow rhythm. Frank was fucking breathless. They had had sex plenty of times in the past, but this... This wasn't just getting off. This was sharing emotion on top of the pleasure. _This_ was making love.

Brian's hot breath splashed over Frank's ear, making him shudder lightly. "Mm, I love you," Brian murmured.

"I— Ohhh... Brian, mmhhm...."

'I love you too' had been the intended response, but Frank had been taken by surprise by the sudden firm stroking of his hard length. And only more noise poured out of Frank's throat as the roll of Brian's hips got harder. 

It was perfect.  They practically finished in unison. Frank was left feeling high and absolutely content. They were  a little overheated and sticky, but neither of them moved apart. In fact, Brian carefully hugged himself closer and buried his head down to place a soft kiss to the warm nape of Frank's neck.

"I could get used to this," Brian breathed. "I hope I do." Another kiss, this time to the top of Frank's head. "I meant what I said before.  You don't have to miss this bed. This could be our bed, our place. If you want that is."

Frank's eyes stayed closed in his sated state, but the smile on his face grew. "I'd really like that."

"It's settled then," Brian gave him a light squeeze, "Welcome home, baby boy." He planted another long kiss to the top of Frank's head and snuggled closer to him still. "I don't know how I ended up so lucky for this to work out.  I'm a complete douchebag, and you're amazing —a little shit, but amazing.  I was such an idiot for taking so long to realize that practically all along I was fucking falling in love with you.  This is so fucking foreign to me, but it feels so damn good." Yet another kiss. "Fuck, Frank Iero, I love you."

"I love you too," Frank grinned. "But never in my life would I have expected you to be this fucking lovey-dovey," Frank couldn't help but laugh softly.

"This would be the 'you being a little shit' part I was talking about," Brian remarked, but playfully. "All I'm doing is appreciating what's mine."

Frank laughed more and carefully maneuvered his body to lay on his back with Brian's arm still wrapped around him. "Come on," Frank had his head turned so he could speak to Brian face to face, "it's cute.  You've always been hot and sexy, but this makes you cute.  I like it."

"Well, it's reserved for you.  Only you. So if you so much as breath a word to the guys about me acting even remotely mushy do not think for a second that I won't hesitate to kill you, Iero."

"Fuck," Frank bit his lip, suddenly anxious with a realization. "We have to tell them about us. Ugh, it's gonna be weird."

"What?" Brian cocked a brow. "You really think anyone's gonna give a shit."

"No. Not like that, no. I don't know..." Frank began to ramble, "Just the thought of having to do it makes me nervous.  I get nervous, you know that, about stupid fucking shit. I can't help it. And they're gonna tease me," he groaned. "I fucking know it."

"You damn right they will," Brian chuckled. He reached to clasp his hand over Frank's. "But don't worry about it, tiny. I get the feeling I'm gonna get the brunt end of the teasing.  I'm the sorry son of a bitch that forever swore off relationships, while you're the goddamn champ that tied me down. It won't be so bad."

"Chelsea already knows about us," Frank revealed before slipping into a yawn. "And that I was hopelessly enamored by you.  That bubble kinda burst right before I told you."

"Well, that explains those glares she'd give me.  But um, Jimmy knows, like about everything.  Me planning on talking to you today. And how I've been banging you from the beginning. Like me telling him I nailed you that first time fifteen minutes after the fact." Brian showed a half cheeky smile.

"What the fuck!" Frank half-laughed.

"What?" Brian shrugged innocently. "I managed to hook up with the hottest and cutest fucking dude I'd ever seen. How could I not brag to someone that he decided stupid lowly me was good enough for him."

Frank bit his lip in a little smile at Brian's obvious baloney excuse. "You turned that around quite nicely.  You're full of shit, but you're fucking smooth so I'll let it slide."

"The goddamn smoothest," Brian smirked. "So, Matt's got something going down at his place Friday night. Why don't we wait til then to break the news to everybody all at once? Preferably by showing up attached at the mouth?"

Frank chuckled, his tired eyes shining with amusement. "Why don't we talk about 'the how' later. I'm on my way to passing out, but let me take you out somewhere tonight. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Shit, first date," Brian mused, but it was a happy tone. "Fuck, I'm kinda nervous. I have literally never been on a date in my life."

"Don't worry. I'll be a perfect gentleman," Frank joked before another yawn escaped. "I think I have a pretty good idea of what we should do."

"Whatever you have in mind, I'm sure it'll be perfect," Brian pecked his nose. "Get some sleep, Tink."

Frank nodded, his eyes already slipping closed. He rolled back on to his side to get more comfortable and smiled as Brian moved with him, back into that lovely sappy spooning position. Frank was in a dreamy world of utter contentment.  He was about to fall asleep curled up with Brian —his fucking boyfriend. All the drama and dejectedness he went through before this didn't matter anymore, because right now life was perfect.

* * *

 


	13. Kiss and Tell

It was just shy of an hour into the small party at Matt's house. Just another fun get together of the extended Avenged Sevenfold family. Yes, just about an hour in and still Frank hadn't given Brian the go ahead in them announcing their relationship. He hadn't even told his sister yet, but everyone did at least know that Frank switched his crash pad from Zack and Chelsea's to Brian's. Frank may have half-truthed the reason for his move being that he didn't have to overhear Zacky plowing his sister anymore.

There was music, chatter, laughing, alcohol; and Frank was enjoying it but also felt internally jittery. They were all in one room now —the guys and girlfriends— and the party had settled into its own little groove. It was the perfect opportunity to just blurt it out. And Brian knew this from where he was talking with Jimmy, shooting Frank a poignant look from across the room. Frank sent back a discreet shake of his head in return. So help him he wasn't ready for this. Frank was so fucking nervous, and he felt even worse because he knew how stupid it was.

Frank drained what was left in his beer bottle and made his way to the empty kitchen. He needed another drink. Something stronger. Putting himself into a drunken state of not giving a fuck would definitely help things along. Frank absently let the fingers of his free hand fiddle with the strap of his sling as his eyes scanned over the ample choices of liquor out on the counter top. He technically didn't have to wear the sling as long as he was careful about how high he lifted his arm and didn't try to hold anything over the weight restriction he was given. But the at-home physical therapy exercises he did right before coming to the party left him pretty sore, and Frank was planning on getting stupid drunk tonight. A stupid drunk where he was sure if he didn't have the sling to keep his arm in place he'd probably end up flailing it around like an inflatable tube man or trying to lift up and carry Jimmy around or something equally moronic. Yeah, the sling-wearing was for the best tonight.

Frank grabbed a plastic cup, still not sure what he wanted, but then another hand gripped it as well. It was Brian.

"Let me make you something. For the son of a bar owner, you really suck as a bartender," Brian smirked.

"Thanks," Frank rolled his eyes, even if it was true.

"You know what you also suck at," Brian spoke, eyes focused on the vodka he was pouring. "Talking to your friends."

Frank's form slouched a little as he sighed out through his nose. He knew his hesitance to reveal their relationship wasn't fair to Brian. They agreed to do it when they first got there, but Frank had turned into a chicken shit. He felt bad that he was being so stupid about this, but he just couldn't help it. This was his dumb anxiety rearing its ugly head when there really wasn't anything to be nervous about. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be," Brian said, finishing the mixed drink and handing it off to Frank before starting on something for himself. "I understand it's because you're crazy. But it's a cute crazy."

"Um, thanks," Frank chuckled at the questionable compliment.

"But I don't wanna hide," Brian went on, "and neither do you."

"Of course not," Frank shot out. "Shit, I am sorry. But this is just so awkward. Like what are we suppose to do? Clink a fucking spoon against a glass and make a speech? 'Hey guys,'" Frank mockingly altered his voice a little lower in tone, "just uh letting you know, turns out I'm totally gay for Gates. Um, so yeah, we're together now. You know, in love and fucking each other and shit.'"

Brian laughed with an amused shake of his head. "You really overthink things. Just relax." Brian reached out, guiding Frank's cup up toward his mouth. "Drink."

Well, getting drunk had been the mission when Frank stepped into the kitchen. He hadn't really paid attention to how much liquor went into his drink, but with Brian making it, Frank was pretty sure that it was going to fucking do the trick. Frank went ahead and took several long sips in succession. Whatever it was, it was sweet and went down easy enough.

"That's my boy," Brian grinned, giving Frank's ass a pat. "You know, you can always let me take the lead on this. No shame in that."

As much as Frank hated the whole 'public speaking' thing, for some reason it was just very important to him that he be the one to say the words.  This wasn't just a relationship announcement, this was kind of his 'coming out' as well.  And even though Frank viewed the whole coming out concept as incredibly stupid, Frank felt like he needed to own up to it.  He needed to be the one that got everyone's attention.  He needed to be the one that let them all know he and Brian were together.

"No, I can do this," Frank assured, whether it was more to convince Brian or himself was debatable. "I just need to calm my brain down or something.  Just a little more time. Promise."

"I don't know how you do it, but you manage to be a hot pathetic kind of adorable when you're nervous," Brian said with an amused smile. "But let's just go hang then, hm? We'll do this whenever you're ready."

Brian's understanding was so sweet it almost made Frank want to puke. He didn't deserve it.

Brian slung his arm around Frank's shoulder and guided him back out into the living room. The hold of Brian's arm appeared innocent enough to the group in the room, just friendly. Frank was guided to the open space on the sofa next to Matt and his girl, Val. Brian pulled his arm away when they sat, and Frank inwardly frowned. Brian was just doing him a favor with the action, not wanting to look too suspicious until Frank was ready to spill the beans. Frank didn't feel like he'd ever feel comfortable enough to just speak what he needed to out loud. But he also really didn't want to cave in to make Brian do it for them either. Jimmy already knew. Frank halfheartedly wished the guy would stop being such an awesome friend already and just do the work and spill it for them.

Frank nursed his drink and glanced around to the few couples in the room. Matt had his arm around Val. Chelsea was sitting on Zack's lap. Dan's girl, Meg stole a sweet kiss to his cheek as she came to stand beside him. Frank wanted that. Wanted to be able to sit here among his friends and have Brian put his arm around him. Have his cheek kissed. Have his hand held. Have a 'love you' slip passed his lips to the man beside him and have no one bat an eye about it.

Having to just blurt it out, out of nowhere felt weird. But then the obvious answer hit Frank. Maybe he didn't have to say anything at all. Frank just wanted to skip to the part where he could just contently act like the man next to him was his boyfriend, so that's what he was going to do. For some reason taking action instead of words suddenly felt easier. Fuck, Brian had jokingly suggested that they just showed up to the party making out. Who knew in hindsight that probably would have been the best option.

Frank watched Brian then. He was laughing at whatever Jimmy just told him from where he stood near the sofa. And god, did Frank love the way that Brian's eyes shined when he laughed. Loved that smile. Loved _him_ , and that was the last thing in the world Frank needed to feel nervous about letting people know. An hour wait was long enough. Frank chugged down the rest of his drink and placed the empty cup down on the floor by his feet.

"So kiddo," Matt spoke from beside him, eyeing the sling, "you sure you're gonna be good by the time we roll out next?"

"Yeah sure, good enough," Frank answered with an obvious lack of attention in his voice. He only spared Matt a quick glance before it was eyes back on Brian. "Just a sec..." his trailing voice was still directed at his friend, but he shifted closer to his boyfriend. That alone got Brian's attention, but what held it even more was Frank's hand coming to rest on his thigh. "I'm ready," Frank whispered, giving that thigh a squeeze. For such a quiet tone, it was a very loaded. Assured, amorous, and a touch sensual.

And it was like Brian read his mind, knowing exactly how Frank wanted this 'announcement' to happen. He stayed still with the faintest touch of a smirk on his face, letting Frank close the gap. And there on the sofa in the middle of a small party in front of their closest friends, they kissed. It was simple and sweet and everything Frank dreamed that he could do out in the open. Their lips pressed together a second time, a third, and then on the fourth Frank made it deeper but still innocent. Only a tiny little parting of the lips. That small trace of a tongue barely gliding against the other. The perfect hint of a taste. Frank was suddenly lightheaded. Either from the joy of sharing those open kisses or that vodka concoction his slammed back. Maybe a bit from both. All the talking had died away, everyone's attention on the pair. The only noise in the room was the music playing, so it was plenty quiet enough for everyone in the room to hear Frank's affectionate 'I love you' when the two pulled away from each other.

"Woah," Matt laughed beside them, pulling Frank back. "What the hell got slipped into your drink, little man?"

"I'd guess either molly or an engagement ring,"Johnny snickered from a reclining chair.

The reactions of the room varied. There was Jimmy with the knowing smirk. Chelsea looking like she was about to rocket off of Zack's lap and bust through the ceiling in absolute glee for her brother. And then a whole lot of confused and suspicious glances. 

A nervous twinge was still there, but Frank felt like he could explain now. The random shock had been delivered and now there was a reason to speak about it out loud, but Johnny spoke again before he or Brian could.

"What seriously? You guys are surprised to see this?" Johnny questioned the confused of the room with a disbelieving look of his own. He pushed down the leg rest of the recliner and sat up straight. "Like seriously _no idea?_ Like _seriously?_ All that screwing around and shit going on with those two? I just thought we silently agreed not to talk about it, because _ew_."

Frank smiled and bit back a laugh. Johnny. Johnny Fucking Christ of all people saw through all the hiding.

"Hey Gimli," Brian tossed the insult at Johnny, "I'll have you know there's nothing remotely 'ew' about what goes on here in private," he gestured to himself and Frank. "Or possibly right out here a little later if I can get the boyfriend to shoot back a few more drinks." Brian smirked devilishly.

"Shut up!" Frank scolded through a chuckle. He was blushing but over the fucking moon. Brian just called him his boyfriend in front of everyone.

And then the room got loud again with a chorus of reactions: 'No way's and 'I though there was maybe something going on a while back but' and 'How could you not tell us before' and 'Brian, you whipped pussy', among other things positive or playfully teasing. It didn't take too long before Chelsea did spring off of Zack's lap and bounded over to her brother with a grin. She leaned down to hug him and kiss his cheek.

"You got 'im!" She congratulated him with an ecstatic smile. Brian got the same treatment, a hug and a peck on the cheek. Though her words to him were a bit more on the menacing side despite being delivered with a sweet smile. "Hurt him, and I'll kill you. Slowly."

"Note taken," Brian gave his head a little bow. "But nothing I gotta worry about."

"Chels," Frank rolled his eyes, "we've only been together like two and a half days, maybe dial back 'crazy sister' and not scare him off."

"I'm not _that_ bad," she gave a roll of her own eyes. "But you be happy with your bad boy guitarist, and I'll go be happy with mine," she smiled before retreating back Zack.

"Alright so beer pong..." Matt announced to the room. He was up on his feet and looked down to Frank and Brian. "Would the _happy couple_ like a first round spot?" he asked teasingly.

"Hey," Brian waved his hand dismissively. "Just because he's my boy now doesn't mean I want the little gimp as my partner." He gestured to Frank's sling. "He sucks enough with his good arm working, I don't wanna know how bad he is with his left."

"My left arm works plenty good," Frank said with a kindly demonstration, swatting Brian hard in the gut.

"Shit, ow!" Brian yelled through a laugh. He looked up to Matt with an over-the-top wince, "Looks like first round it is."

"Whipped," Matt chuckled, walking off with a dimpled grin to start setting up the table.

Brian stood first as a few others were starting to leave the room. He held out a hand to help Frank to his feet. "Shouldn't hit your boyfriend you know?" Brian stated with a playfully smug matter-of-factness. 

"Shouldn't call yours a gimp," Frank shot back with a wide smile.

"Fair enough," Brian smiled back. "See? This was pretty easy, wasn't it? Everyone knows, they only made fun of me, and now we don't have to worry about me doing this..."

'This' was Brian taking hold of either side of Frank's face and bringing their lips together. Brian's tongue was pushed into the shorter man's mouth before Frank could process what was going on. And in typical Frank fashion, he got lost in the movement of that tongue, lost in the taste. He gripped the back of Brian's shirt as he pulled him closer, while Brian on the other hand took things a little further, hands sliding down and around Frank's body, moving south still until he slipped those hands inside the back of Frank's pants. An uncontrollable little moan left Frank's throat and got smothered in Brian's mouth as the man's rough hands gripped and kneaded his ass firmly.

Then there was coughing from the edge of the room, and strategically placed among it were the words "Get a room". Frank broke the kiss at once and yanked Brian's arms away to see Jimmy smirking in the doorway.

"As if you didn't like the show," Brian smirked back to the tall man; leaving Frank to just blush stupidly as Jimmy wiggled his eyebrows, and then to notice Dan and Meg were still in the room too, snickering and giggling respectively. 

"Jesus, fucking control yourself," Frank whispered harshly to Brian, tugging his pants up better into place. "I don't need a fucking hard on in the middle of Matt's living room with people watching."

"Sounds like you're the one that needs to control himself," Brian smirked.

"Asshole," Frank spoke loudly this time.

"Go ahead and call me that again," Brian smiled sweetly, and took Frank's hand in his, "we both know that just means you love me."

All this PDA was wonderfully disgusting. Frank never thought he'd really ever have this with Brian. Them together and open and just happy being themselves. The messy tangled paths of their lives were given the chance to become perfectly intertwined, and Frank wasn't ever going to take that for granted. And now just riding high on love and on the elation of not being a secret anymore, Frank was going to take advantage of how bold it made him feel. Maybe not as brazen as Brian literally getting into his pants in front of their friends, but confident enough not to care that he was dragging out the display of this deep and quirky love of theirs. 

Frank moved up on his toes so he could make their lips brush together. "Asshole," he murmured with a smile. He could feel his boyfriend's lips curve into a smile of his own before Brian spoke back those warm-hearted words.

"I love you too, Tinkerbell." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all you guys for giving this ship a chance! And if I made you obsessed with it, even better.  
> I'm sad it's over, but I do plan on keeping these boys alive with a random collection of Brankie one-shots set in this AU. So keep an eye out ;)


End file.
